A Tomb Raiders Resident
by ArtElf
Summary: On board Flight 727, Destination: Europe. Leon Kennedy is tracking a Terrorist named Felucha Marriest, reasources evident that Felucha obtained a virus on the black market. Details on the virus are unknown at this point, as well as the purpose of the trade. The Division of Security Operations have dispatched Special Agent Kennedy to go undercover. However, Flight 727 never lands.
1. Chapter: Introduction

**The Tomb Raiders Resident**

_Evil Endures_

**Summery 1:**

On board Flight 727, Destination: Europe. Leon Kennedy is tracking a Terrorist named Felucha Marriest, resources evident that Felucha obtained a virus on the black market. Details on the virus are unknown at this point, as well as the purpose of the trade. The Division of Security Operations have dispatched Special Agent Kennedy to go undercover.

Mission details are as following:

_Target: Marriest, Felucha._

_Status: Terrorist._

_Assigned Agent for this operation: Kennedy, Leon._

_Mission Brief:  
_

_Intel reports that terrorist Felucha Marriest has brought an illegal virus through the black market, sources unknown._

_Target is an asset with valuable information, proceed undercover and with caution. Identify the source and the virus. Do not use fire power, weapons locked, only fire when fired upon._

_Report you findings via Government issued phone, check in at checkpoints, and notify your operator should the target move, proceed to follow._

_Operation Code name: Dark Friday_

**Summery 2:**

_No one leaves. _

_No one leaves._

_No one leaves._

The dragons triangle is still raging, survivor Lara Croft battles with the myth of Himiko, the legend and power now a reality. The island is riddled with wrecks of many ships and air crafts dating back centuries, and the storms strike again. Father Mathias seeks the sun queen, and the island is haunted with the deaths of thousands in its sacrifice. Fighting to survive, Lara struggles to find a way off the island along with her companions, but it seems, that everything is against them from leaving, they can't leave.

_No one leaves._

Main Characters: (1#)Leon Kennedy (Resident Evil - 2013), (2#)Lara Croft (Tomb Raider - 2013)

**=tTRR=**

A Tomb Raider Vs Resident Evil Fanfiction.

**A**uthers **N**ote: Hey everyone, it's just your freaky ArtElf here. So I was going through my pictures recently, and found one that I edited on Leon Kennedy, then I found another of Lara, and It was like a light bulb went off in my head. "_Hey... these pictures will go rather nicely together_." So I had to do this, I Photoshopped the images together and BAM! Idea of a story came into mind! Which is what this is. Anyways, these are my two favourite games, so I hope it goes as neat as the picture did. I've got the first two chapters in my head, but not really sure on the plot yet.

So review if you think I should continue with this, and throw in a idea while your at it!

;D

**Ratings:** M (For graphic violence, blood and gore, coarse language, detailed descriptions, [I'm a detail freak, I like to make my stories as detailed as my drawings.] horror and blah blah blah.)

[**AN**: This is a action/horror/adventure fic, I don't do comedies or romance. Though there is some of Leon's quirks here, and maybe some friendship or brother/sister bonding stuff. I don't know, I guess we'll see. Also this story in centered around Leon, but this ties in with Tomb Raiders story, only written from another survivors perspective, AKA Leon's. So If you love this sexy character like I do, and like a good old story on blood and adventure where Leon always has the worst/best confusing luck I've ever seen, then by all means my freaky darlings, proceed :D

I don't own any of these amazing characters, only my OC's which would be easy to spot. Information might be a little swayed, but what can I say, that's why its FanFiction! We make sh*t possible. Leon in this story is set about a year after Resident Evil 6, but he's still sexy as hell ;D ]

**=tTRR=**

**Chapter: Introduction.**

Boeing Flight 727.

Destination: Europe.

Passengers: 200. Staff Passengers: 21. Pilots: 4.

Current location: Philippine Sea

Current date and time: July, 27th, 2015. 11:59pm.

Mission Details:

Target: Felucha Marriest. Terrorist.

Assigned Agent: Leon Kennedy.

Operation: Dark Friday.

- 2 weeks and three days: in.

_"This is channel 10 news. I'm Sandy Eeve bringing you a late weather update. We have a strong weather warning for the coast, winds are expecting to pick up at 35 knots an hour, 25 knots inland, storms with heavy rain and chances of hail. This is expected to last until late hours the following morning. It is advised to secure any outdoor furniture, cars under garages, and for people to remain in there home's. The storms will reach inland at approximately 1:30am. Sea levels will rise-"_

"Would you like some more coffee, sir?"

He jumped slightly, forcing his attention away from the TV and looked up to find a flight attendant smiling politely down at him, holding a steaming container which no doubt had what she was offering. The name tag that was pinned on her blue flight dress read in the curved letters of Jessica, she had asked this question to him before. He looked at her and smiled, forcing his hands to move and get the empty cup on the table in front of him, lacking that of which she asked. "Please, that'd be great." He said to her, smiling a little sheepishly when she arched a brow in amusement, before stepping forward and filling the cup with steaming liquid.

"That would be your sixth coffee now?" She asked, knowing exactly how many times she'd refilled his coffee.

He smiled, wrapping both hands around to steady the cup as the plane gave a small tremble, and he dully noted that the attendant didn't even twitch at that. "Yeah... I haven't really been counting." He said to her. She looked like she was born on a plane, by the way that she carried herself confidently on this flying disaster, and he couldn't understand why or how people could do that with such ease. He hated flying, if ever he could avoid it, he would, but such as it is, this wasn't his normal flight trip. He wasn't on vacation.

"I would suggest you get some sleep." She said, looking around and seeing that a number of people in section C were asleep, but she turned her gaze back to the man in question. "But with all that coffee..."

He chuckled quietly, nodding and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't sleep well on planes." He told her, already sipping at his new coffee, being mindful not to burn his tongue. It was true, he could never sleep on planes, but that wasn't the reason why he was forcing himself awake by the delicious substance, no, his target was a number of rows ahead of him, and he'd made sure that his flight details would warrant him to be in the same room of the other. Though the attendant didn't know that.

She nodded in understanding, humming as she stood there, in high heels, perfectly balanced as another tremble ran through the aircraft. "Just to let you know, we are 6 hours out of our checkpoint destination." She said, after all it was her job to frequently update the passengers on the flight. "If you need anything else...?" She asked, leaving a blank for the man to fill in.

He nodded, smiling again. "I'll give you a call." He said, before holding up his coffee slightly. "And thanks."

She grinned cheerfully at him, biting her lip as she walked down the ile, proceeding with another passenger.

He signed, taking another sip as he turned his attention back to the TV, only to find it had passed on to something else, some kind of movie taking place, and he could have laughed at the title that appeared on the screen. 'Snakes on a Plane', the flight service picked a real winner there, and he hated that movie. He scoffed lightly when it began to play, and turned his eyes to the window, pulling the shutter blinds up so he could see the dark night, being seated right next to it gave him comfort.

"Damn it. I hate that movie." A voice cursed under their breath.

He smiled, keeping his gaze to the window despite not seeing anything. "Your not the only one." He said, hearing that the passenger in front of him had woken up. Suzan was a one of a kind, he learnt that about the younger woman the moment the plane took off, the two quickly accepting each other and glad that neither were sitting next to some loud snoring jack ass. Even if they could hear some people from across the room.

"Still awake, I see." Suzan commented dryly. "Whats that now? Your seventh coffee?" She complained, smirking at the man.

He looked at her, raising a brow and taking a sip. "Sixth, actually." He pointed out in a professional demeanor that had the younger lady laughing.

"_Geeeez_, Leon." Suzan drawled out, sounding very much like a teenager, even though she was far from that age now, she still prided herself in acting like one. Suzan pouted, shifting in her seat uncomfortably and trying to get the annoying kink out of her neck from sleeping, pulling at her coat.

Leon chuckled at her, seeing the glare she shot him, and he turned his attention discretely to his target, seeing in bored dismay as the man was the source of the snoring that they could hear. Felucha Marriest, a terrorist who had illegally obtained a virus through the black market. This wouldn't have his occupation at such a level of alarm and unease, but the man didn't have just any virus. Intel believe that the man has some form of bio-weaponry, the details and source are unknown, and Leon had been sent in to shadow this man, to find out what he's up to, and hopefully to put a stop to any possible outbreak. He's been tailing this man for just over two weeks now, traveling from place to place, country to country. There were no tracking devices present to help him out, only the checkpoints in which his Government would send him the targets current credit card history, footage from surveillance cameras, and his own skills to ensure he doesn't lose the man. All of which required little sleep, extreme caution not to be seen even once in passing glance, instinct, and intelligence.

Leon wasn't just good at his job, but one of the best, his strength and will power coming from putting a stop to all this viral attacks and outbreaks since Umbrella and Raccoon City. He was going to scrub the virus' off the face of the earth, even if it killed him.

Things on the plane were slow going and simple, and Leon signed in frustration. He should be taking this time to catch up on the sleep he's missed, but every time the plane trembled or shuddered he would snap out of it, not knowing if the bad feeling that ate away at his insides was directed to his discomfort and dare he say, fear of flying, or if it was something else.

'_Or both_...' He thought with a frown, he'd learnt not to ignore his instincts, and right now it was warning him, though of what, he didn't know.

"Why so _serious_?"

Leon found himself again snapping out of his thoughts at the acted voice, and looked at Suzan with an arched brow. "The joker? Really?" He said in amusement, seeing her failed attempt at being the creepy character from the newest movies of Batman. Another thing he learnt about her, is that she loved quoting movies.

"What?" She looked at him innocently. "That's my favourite movie." She said excitedly, making a show of un-zipping her coat and showing off her Joker T-Shirt with a detailed print of the character from the movies. "Ease up, will you? Your frowning is making me nervous." She muttered only loud enough for him to hear, another tremble moving through the plane, this one causing the man in front of her to grip the arm rest momentarily. "Why are you going to Europe anyway?" She wondered out loud.

Leon relaxed after a moment, mentally cursing at himself for the slip up. "Business trip." He said dully as he looked out the window again, knowing rather than seeing that they were probably on the out skirts of the storm that the weather reported a while ago, probably why the plane was trembling more frequently now.

Suzan looked at him for a moment, bewildered, before she cracked a sly smirk when the man didn't say anything more on the subject. "Shady guy, hm? Jame's Bond style?" She asked, resting her chin in her hands, eying him over. "Nice jacket." She added with a smile. Suzan won't deny that the man was attractive, no, just plain gorgeous, and she was a sucker for blue eyes. When she reached her sister in Europe, she was going to tell her all about the sexy man she was next to on the flight, maybe even get a photo before they landed, but she found that she didn't have the patience. Making an excited move, she tore open her back pack which was on the seat next to her, not waiting for a reply as she pulled out her camera.

"What are you doing?" Leon asked, seeing every detail of her excited movements, and she grinned at him.

"What? I can't get a picture with Jame's Bond?" She pouted at him in mock disappointment, but stood up and moved around the table, coming to jump on the seat next to him and making a point that she wasn't really disappointed, because she was going to get that photo anyway.

Leon chuckled dryly at that, before signing in defeat when she wouldn't move from her idea. "I hate getting my photo taken." He commented, eyeing her cheery face before giving in when she gave him her best 'puppy dog eyes' look. Moving in closer so that they'd both be in the frame, Leon wrapped his left arm around her shoulders as she did the same, the action making them look like they'd been friends since school.

"Oh don't worry, this will look good, because its got me in it." Suzan said with a straight face, in all seriousness before her giggle gave her away, and help up the camera at arms length, her tongue sticking out slightly as she blindly adjusted it until she was satisfied that the photo would be taken correctly, and that nothing was left out.

Leon shook his head at that, before turning his eyes to the lens, resisting the urge to laugh outright at the permanent marker stick figure drawings that were in fluorescent blue, green, and purple, covering every inch of the camera aside from the important features.

Suzan snuggled in closer playfully like he was a teddy bear, and she smiled happily. "Smile." She drawled out in a sing song tone, and after a second she pressed the button, the flash of the camera leaving a streak in her vision after a few blinks, and Suzan brought the camera closer, reviewing the photo and marveling at how perfect it was, chuckling in delight at the image of her and Leon. She grinned ear to ear, showing him the picture. "I bet that was a once in a life time." She said proudly.

Leon laughed at her words, secretly knowing that she was right as he viewed the picture, smiling at how good it was for such a camera. "You good now?" He asked in amusement, seeing that she had yet to go back to her seat.

She nodded furiously, that smile still plastered to her face before she jumped up, moving back to her seat and sitting down again. "I'm good now." Suzan said in content as she turned the device off and put it in her bag again for safe keeping. She couldn't wait to show her sister that.

He smiled at her quietly, alight with her joy. It was people like her than made his job extremely rewarding, seeing the good the world still had made him feel better, and being the cause of part of that goodness filled him with motivation to see it though, right up to the end.

Another tremble ran through the plane and Leon found himself starting to get used to it, if only for a while, but what followed was something he knew deep down wasn't a good sign. Following that tremble was another, more violent one that had shook with enough force to unsettle his coffee, causing the cup to jump off the side of the table and roll on the floor, the creamy liquid darkening the carpet. The tremble had woken up a number of passengers and a few people made sounds of surprise as the suddenly of it. Leon saw the flight attendant from earlier trade looks with another, before that other disappeared behind doors leading to section D which moved to the head of the plane, no doubt to talk to the pilots about what was happening.

It was then when Leon could hear something strange, like rain against a tin roof, but he frowned. The aircraft was built to withstand heavy rain and such noise wouldn't sound like that against the think ceiling, also the fact that they were too high up for rain, the temperature at this level would... Leon suddenly realised it was ice that was pelting down on the Boeing aircraft.

Suzan looked confused for a moment, a hint of worry crossing her features. "Whats happening?" She asked nervously, not liking the now constant faint trembles that shook the plane.

Leon glanced at her, equally worried, and shook his head in answer. He didn't know either, but it wasn't good. He was about to ask a near by flight attendent when something in the corner of his vision lit up, a bright flash coming from outside the window, and he glanced into the darkness for a moment, thinking he'd imagined, though that thought fled when another blinded his vision for a second, and Leon could see the lightning streak under his eyelids, followed by a muffled rumble that shook the plane again.

They'd reached the storm.

Another more violent shudder ripped through the aircraft, and the people that were somehow asleep were now definitely awake, the few who were foolishly standing stumbled and fell down with the force. The planes notice system and speaker flared to life.

"_This is the captain speaking. Everyone must put there seat belts on, do not panic, we are experiencing some turbulence_."

The red light went on telling the passengers to buckle up, which they did quickly, the flight attendants taking a seat and doing the same.

Leon looked at Suzan, nodding at her. "Put your seatbelt on." He said to her, protectively out of habit. Shooting a quick glance to his target, Leon knew that what ever happened from here onwards, was against his actions. He can't worry about the mission now. Another blinding flash came in through the window that stunned his eyes for a brief second as he fumbled with his seatbelt, tying to get the damn thing to click in, only it was within that second when his instinct screamed at him in warning, and everything went down. Fast.

He wasn't sure what happened, but the next moment the plane took a sudden and violent dive to the left, and Leon's seatbelt came undone as he fell from his seat, toppling sideways as the plane tilted with startling speed, and he grunted in surprise as his back came in contact with painful force against the side of the table in the middle row, startling the people sitting there before he crashed to the ground. A few other unlucky people being forced from their seat and flung to the side as they couldn't get their seatbelt done in time, loose equipment and luggage falling about.

"Leon!"

He looked up, dazed, when Suzan called out to him in panic, and he could see her hands fumbling with her own seatbelt as she locked her scared eyes to his. "No! Stay in your seat!" He yelled out to her desperately, tying to be heard over the other people who were screaming in fear and the alarmingly strange noise that sounded outside the plane, his mind unable to identify the source.

Suzan froze her hands, swallowing. She heard him, and against her judgment she stayed in her chair, hugging her bag as it was the only thing she could seem to grasp as she looked around in panic.

Leon knew he had to get in his seat, if what was happening played out completely, he knew that he'd be as good as dead if he didn't get locked to something. Groaning, Leon didn't risk standing up, at the angle the plane was, gravity was pulling at him with strength he knew would win in the end, and at the moment he figured that being tossed about in a aircraft was on the last of his 'to do' list. Only he found it difficult at finding a purchase, carpet wasn't an ideal grip, and he knew the plane was descending fast by how light headed he felt, a high pitched whistle sounding.

The next second after, he was partly saved from climbing on carpet when the plane leveled out, and Leon got to his feet slowly, his back protesting at the movement slightly as he covered the small distance between him and Suzan, the plane was still shaking violently to a point where he stumbled frequently and nearly falling back down again, narrowly missing a suitcase that had come free of its place above the seats. Another warning, another violent tremble, and Leon knew luck wasn't on his side when the plane yet again dived to the left, this time followed by a mighty groaning sound of tortured metal, jumping just as this happened, he reached out to Suzan, the lady thinking fast and taking a surprisingly strong grip of his hand, preventing him from falling again.

"I got you!" She yelled over the noise, now gripping onto him for dear life with two hands, abandoning her bag which sailed to some unknown part of the plane. Her victory was short lived. Things were happening too fast.

A bright flash from outside the window flared again, followed by a roar of thunder and a red glow sparking before the planes decent to the left abruptly changed to the right, everyone was screaming now as alarms sounded and the lights flickered.

Leon crashed into the side of the plane, just missing a surprised Suzan, gravity again pressing him against the wall, and when Leon looked outside the window, what he saw doomed his hopes on this plane landing in one piece. Fire was raging in two of the Boeing 727's engines on the right wing, the rest of it had broken a way completely. The plane was breaking apart, and without the use of the engines...

More horrid sounds, more screaming, and more shudders before another flash, this time coming from the left side of the plane, this time causing flight 727 to role as the whole left wing broke away, nothing but shredded metal falling piece by piece, every possible object inside the destroyed aircraft was thrown about, including its 200 passengers and flight attendants.

"Suzan!" Leon yelled just as he was thrown to the side again, everything becoming a blur, and it was in situations like these where Leon knew the feel of his side arm wouldn't protect him despite its presence, because in situations like these, those such items can't protect you. This is why he could never sleep on planes.

A piece of flying metal slashed across his arm and causing it to sting painfully before he hit the ceiling, right after he made contact with a chair before being thrown again to the side of the descending aircraft, and Leon didn't have enough air left to cry out in agony as pain stabbed into his chest. _No one leaves_... He wasn't sure what brought on that thought, and he wasn't given the time as his head collided with another table with agonising force, leaving him blacking out for a moment.

Dazed, everything seeming to be in slow motion. The noise around him was deafening to a point where he couldn't remember what was causing it, before the sound seemed so loud that all fell silent, and he was left with his blurred and flashing gaze, confused at to why he felt so weightless, as to why there were bodies of people flying about, some with there eyes open, fighting against the movements, others with there eyes closed, screams sounding in their throats, and another body seemingly floated past him, skewered by pieces of metal. Leon couldn't remember what was happening, for moments he didn't even know where he was or what he was doing.

A space of another blackout and he blinked. Worry consuming him, a face of a lady he'd just met but doesn't remember meeting, a flash of a camera, the photo. Then another face of a man. Black out.

The storm of black clouds in the dark night was broken when a very large flaming destroyed aircraft rapidly descended, breaking through the storms clutches, chunks of the plane breaking apart and landing at other locations, some falling on shore and coming to crash into the tooth like reefs, sending waves to hurl. The main body of the plane sailed inland and between the hills, leveling out at the last minute to scrape on the surface of the island before impacting with a mighty screech and rumble. The rain doing nothing to put out the fire's. Through forests and abandoned buildings it trailed, leaving destruction in its wake, the tail of the plane breaking apart and separating from the body, the wreckage stretching for kilometers and kicking up dirt, gradually slowing.

At the foot of a river the Boeing passenger plane slowed to a stop with a crash, leaving a trail of disaster in its home coming, the storm resting to a still as the plane was brought down. All was quiet on flight 727.

_No one leaves._

_No one leaves._

_No one leaves._

**End of Introduction.**

The Tomb Raiders Resident.

_[What do ya'll think? R&R for chapter 1 :D]_


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello my freaky darlings :) So here is chapter 1, I hope you liked the introduction, and chapter 2 will be posted when ever, let me know what ya'll think eh? Thanks to my freaky 'guest' for your words, that's why this chapter in now up! :D Enjoy!**

**The Tomb Raiders Resident**

_Evil Endures_

**Chapter 1:**

Boeing Flight 727.

Destination: Europe.

Passengers: 200. Staff passengers: 21. Pilots: 4.

Current location: Unknown

Current date and time: Unknown

Mission Details:

Target: Felucha Marriest. Terrorist.

Assigned Agent: Leon Kennedy.

Operation: Dark Friday.

- 2 weeks and four days: in.

Fire danced in the night.

The red glow of flame alight under the moonless sky danced as ash rose like fire flies, acting as stars, the sprinkle of rain falling like slivers of silver, some catching onto the alight ash and colliding with a hiss. The wreckage of flight 727 was scattered across the land, trailing back to the sore and washing up in the violent waves on the sea, among the metal and luggage were the bodies of the passengers floating in the water, blood coming to wash ashore.

All was silent. All was still.

The plane had divided into parts, the tail of the Boeing rested at shore, further at the roots of the mountains were the sections of B and C, then further still were A and D, along with the head of the plane, all the while wreckage and bodies were leaving bread crumbs, the ground having a trench cut through with the impact of the crash.

At the roots of the mountains there was movement among the sparks that spiked from the severed electricity wires of the plane's system, there were people crying, people screaming, there were survivors on flight 727.

The was sound in his ears, a ringing like that of the effects of a flash grenade, only it was dark, he couldn't see anything, but he sure felt it. It was hot and cold at the same time, wet and dry as fire and water battled among the ruins. He was laying face down, and everything was hurting, everything, he couldn't move, seemed to have forgotten how to. Couldn't think, couldn't form words, couldn't breath. Blackout.

The wind was brushing at his hair, tickling his face but the feeling being more painful than it was annoying, and Leon groaned, his head felt like it had been split open, and he dared not to open his eyes. Was he dead? He didn't think that the deceased could feel pain, and he knew that for certain because the undead never seemed to feel pain. No, he was very much alive, and in a lot of pain. He was alive... He was alive... He was... black out.

His left eye felt sticky, his vision dark around the edges and hazy, seeing blurs and doubles of everything as time and movement seemed to fail at catching up, as he failed to catch up. White flashed in time with the throbbing of his head, like someone was constantly beating him with an axe. His hands moved at a snails pace along the dirt and bloodied floor of the plane, and he gave up, breathing shallowly, each breath he took was rasped in pain, and Leon grunted each time knives seemed to pierce his lungs with the task of feeding his body with oxygen. Over the ringing in his ears he could hear the sound of survivors screaming, their sobbing over the dead, over the crash.

Thunder rumbled distantly, but not in hunger, rather, but in triumph.

Leon knew he needed to move, that staying wasn't an option, despite his injuries, he wasn't going to give up, he wasn't done here yet. With that thought, the agent willed himself the energy, the strength, _move_. He pulled his outstretched arms forward ever so slowly, and shakily attempted to rise, chunks of debris and dirt falling off him as he did so. Grunting and groaning again when pain flared and leaving him immobile, every inch of him hurt to a point where he didn't know where it started and where it ended. Taking another moment, Leon tried again, this time coming to rest on his for arms as he rested his head on the plane's blood stained carpet, more pained grunts sounding as he breathed, eyes closed for a longer pause, he tried again. Leon managed to get a few more inches up on this elbows before agonising pain flared, causing him to collapse back down with a rasped cry, bringing an arm to wrap around his middle, and this time he located the problem. His ribs and side flared with a dangerous pain he knew can't be good, he had a serious concussion due to his disoriented sight, a sticky substance he knew was blood that caked most of the left side of his face, and his right shoulder felt strange.

Leon groaned.

Rustling of metal and various equipment sounded and shifted as someone made their way though section C of flight 727, stumbling briefly before regaining their footing, quiet sobs sounding as they drew unknowingly near to the agent on the floor, freezing when the man groaned again in pain. The person shuffled forward, eyes piercing through the wreckage trying to find the source of the noise, before stepping hesitantly forward.

A sniff. "L-Leon..?" A scared female voice called out quietly.

Leon knew that voice, and at its sound made him relax with such relief he thought he would pass out, and it took most of his strength to faintly lift his head from the comforting carpet, only managing to catch sight of a pair of dirt converse shoes. "Su-...zan?" He rasped out painfully, wondering if his ears were playing tricks on him, and he rested his head back down when the pain that seemed to split his skull intensified.

More shuffling, and a moment later a body was next to his, a hand on his shoulder as sobbing reached through the beat in his head. "Leon? Oh-.. my god." Suzan cried when she recognised the man on the floor, thinking that for sure the man was dead when she lost sight of him during the crash. She wanted to hug him in relief, but didn't dare do anything other than resting her trembling hand on his shoulder, not knowing how badly he was hurt. In the light of the fire she could see it catch on the blood that ran down the side of the mans face, and the pain that etched itself onto his brow.

"Suzan...you all- right?" Leon found it hard to form words past his throat as breathing was excruciating, taking as many shallow breaths as he could, and as worried as he was about that, he needed to know if she was okay,

"Yeah..." Suzan's voice shook when she replied. "I think. My head hurts a little, and I can't really walk on my left foot." She said after a moment, looking her self over and eyeing he various cuts that dotted her arms, though they were small.

Leon signed, regretting the action immediately as pain flared again, groaning, he nodded faintly, relieved to hear that she wasn't seriously hurt. She's very lucky. "We... need to get.. off this plane." Leon muttered after every shallow breath, moving to push himself up again, this time coming to rest on his hands and knees.

Suzan nodded dimly. "Okay... okay." She whispered, seemingly to herself, she could do this. Moving forward, she noted that the man was having trouble in moving much, and she could see the hand that was wrapped securely around his chest, as well as hear his pained breathing. Takeing note of this, she took his left arm and gently wrapped it around her neck, bending down at his level and wrapping her other arm as carefully as she could around his waist. "Come on, we've gotta get you up. Okay? In three." She said quietly, and when he nodded mutely, she proceeded. "Okay... Three..." Suzan began, giving him a chance to steady himself. "Two..." She shifted her grip, making sure he wont slip as she dared tightening her hold on him. "One." And with that, she began to stand, taking him with her.

Leon cried out sharply when standing aggravated what was probable a number of cracked ribs, and he would have stumbled if it wasn't for the hold Suzan had on him, but she was having trouble with holding his weight. Grinding his teeth, Leon forced his legs and feet to work, transferring his body weight onto them so that he wasn't completely leaning on the younger woman and causing her pain.

"Okay.." She said breathlessly, wincing at the horrible ache in her foot, but she forced herself to move down the wrecked ills of the plane and over to the side of the wall which had been torn out with the impact, showing them the disaster and world in which they crashed on. The walk was slow going, each grunt of pain coming from the man she was helping caused her to panic, but she pushed on. The floor under them creaked and moaned as they moved, and she hoped that it wouldn't collapse under their combined weight.

They eventually got to the side of the plane, and Leon viewed the disaster of flight 727 through his blurring vision. The glow of many fires licked at rubble, the light highlighting many stray forms of survivors moving about and among the wreckage. There was chaos, there was panic and there was grief, and it reminded Leon of China and the outbreak, just minus the infected.

They were on the second level of the plane, and their next challenge was getting down.

"Over there." Suzan spoke up, nodding her head to their right as non of her hands were free. Part of section C had caved in, the floor acting as a ramp down to section B. It probably wasn't a safe idea, but it was the only one present at that time. Suzan shifted her grip again before she started moving them over to their exit, which was no more than a few meters away, and when they got there, she pressed a foot down hesitantly and giving the metal a little nudge, satisfied when the floor didn't even twitch. "Ready? Hold on." She asked, and Leon grunted his answer, knowing that it was this or nothing. With a mental sigh, she stepped forward carefully, making sure not to step on anything other than the floor, because if she slipped, then it would be a rather painful slid down, one she didn't want to risk.

The task was more trouble than what it looked, and Suzan gasped every time her foot came in contact with an object, or a body, apologising every time she stepped over one and keeping a mental note not to look at them or the blood the was plastered in various areas on the plane. Having to make several side trips due to piles of metal and equipment blocking their path, weaving in and out of chairs and tables, Suzan signed in relief as her foot made contact with section B, now at level with the land and she immediately headed for a torn gap in the wall, easing them down the small step and onto the soil.

"Just a little further." She muttered tiredly as she continued, taking them further from the dead bodies, and finding a spot unoccupied, a near by fire giving her light and warming her skin against the cool breeze. "Okay..." Being extremely carefull, she eased Leon down so that his back was resting against a large chunk of the plane, causing the man to groan again with the change of position, and she eagerly sat down too, getting her weight off her foot.

Leon could see that she was scared, and looking at the others who were among the wreckage, he knew that he was too. His chest still caused him a great deal of pain, but he knew it wouldn't ease anytime soon. Suzan was quiet beside him, her hands rubbing at her arms, and he felt concerned for her. "This is why.. I can never sleep.. on planes." He said quietly, intending to lighten the mood if not but a little, and he could see her smile in the light of the fire, but it didn't stay for long.

"Why is this happening?" She asked in a quiet frightened voice, rubbing her arms at the goose bumps that appeared as the heat of the crash died down a little, the rain winning over the fire, but doing very little of cleaning them of the blood and dirt that coated them.

Leon's mind flashed to his mission, remembering when he last saw Felucha on the plane before everything went black. This wasn't the work of a terrorist, but that of a storm that was far too serious than what the weather report let on, or maybe they didn't know, after all, people can only predict so much on mother nature. Leon frowned at that, because despite knowing it was a storm that brought the plane down, his instincts were still warning him of something, that gut feeling telling him that this was no normal storm, there was something very unnatural about it. "...I don't know." He replied after a moment, slowly but surly getting oxygen into his pained lungs.

Among all things though, is that they were still alive.

"Where are we?" Suzan asked out loud, looking around but not seeing much under the cover of darkness.

Leon shook his head again in answer, too taking in their surroundings but not having any luck either. "I guess we'll find out at dawn." He said, and with that the thought of surviving through the night. "We should stay here, keep the fires going, keep warm, hopefully someone saw the crash." He added that last part, though for some reason those words didn't sound right. A number of survivors were walking around, checking for anyone who was still alive, and helping those in need. Leon's heart lightened that there were still people alive, but despite wanting to get up and do something, he knew he wouldn't do much good in his condition.

Suzan agreed mutely, glancing around before spotting something familiar lying a few meters away from her. It was her back pack. With a small gasp at spotting her bag, she stood up despite how tired she was and limped over to it, picking it up and hugging it close to her as she moved back to Leon, sitting back down with a wince. A small hopefull victory for her, glad that she had some form of her possession to hold onto. Tearing open the zip, she dug inside, pulling out her phone with lightning speed. "Shit." She cursed, standing painfully up again and holding the device to the sky, hoping to get s signal.

At her attempts, Leon realised he still had his phone in his jacket pocket, and he too pulled it out, but cringed in dismay when he found that the screen had smashed, probably from when he was thrown about in the plane. It wasn't working. Not his lucky day, or night, he didn't really care, taking the back of the phone off and pulling the sim card, pocketing it before tossing the now useless device aside. Should he need to call his department, of vice versa, they'd track the sim card, and maybe it will come in handy later. He looked up when Suzan cursed again, watching the younger lady limp back and forth, holding her phone up in desperation to get a signal. He signed painfully, closing his eyes as his head continued to send a sharp pulse through his skull in time with that of his heart beat.

The storms were growing fainter but with the fires dying down it became freezing, the wreckage played across the land along with the nightmare.

His energy was slipping away, gravity seemed to sway for a few moments and Leon knew he needed to stay awake, he shouldn't have closed his eyes in the first place, not with a seemingly sever concussion. He could hear Suzan talking, but wasn't sure on the words, he thinks he might have blacked out again for an unknown amount of time, because among awareness he realised that his gut was screaming at him again, people were screaming, there was panic everywhere.

They'd been found.

Though Leon would have jumped up at the sound of something he knew all to well. Gunshots.

He jerked, forcing his eyes open but having extreme difficulties in getting his vision to focus, blurred shapes of people running, fighting, angry demands in all kinds of languages shouted through the night, some of these black blurs held torches, and others were holding their hands up at point, sparks which were the cause of the gunshots that sounded in his ears.

Leon's training kicked in with speed that outmatched his injuries, and he reached for his gun concealed in his jacket, pulling the Beretta out and blindly loading it, safety off. Mentally skipping past the fact that he still had his gun on him. Standing up painfully and swaying for a dangerous moment, Leon heard a familiar voice cry out.

"Hey?! What are you- Let go of me! Let go!"

His vision was sharpening at the adrenaline, and Leon spotted Suzan struggeling with three men who were dressed in torn armed gear. Leon knew immediately they weren't survivors from the crash. "Hey!" He called out, drawing their attention as he stepped forward, gun pointed down in front of him incase this was all just a miss understanding, his mission brief clear in his mind. Do not fire unless fired upon. Though Leon had a funny feeling that these men weren't a part of his mission or the rescue. "Let her go." He said in a clear authorised voice, taking another step forward.

One of the men shouted out in Russian before the others drew their guns, aiming at the other survivor. Causing Suzan to scream. "Leon! They've got guns!"

A bullet wizzed by his ear, another cut his arm, and Leon didn't even hesitate, bringing up his own weapon and executing a perfect head shot at the man who had just pulled a machete on Suzan, and when the man fell, the other two called out in Russian again, before firing back at him. Leon ducked despite their aim being slightly off anyway, better safe than sorry. He aimed and fired again, taking down another and with lightning speed he changed target, shooting the last man next to Suzan.

At the sound of the shouted alarm, more of the armed men saw what happened, rushing in to subdue the armed man who killed three of their own with too much ease.

Leon immediately knew they were out numbered, many of the remaining survivors were scattering at the invasion of who they thought were rescuers, most of which were either taken down or caught. "Suzan, run!" He yelled out to the frightened woman as a number of the attackers moved over to their location, and she was frozen for a moment, the questions that she had fled at the sound of more gunshots, then she ran, her backpack still slung over one shoulder.

Leon watched her go, hoping she'd be okay before bullets forced him to take cover behind the wreckage he had sat against moments ago. Each breath was robbing him of his adrenaline as pain flared, and he remembered he was still injured. Taking a few shuddering gasps, Leon moved out of cover and fired at the men running his way, managing to take out a few before he took cover again, his enemies fire coming to ping off the metal of the plane, and Leon could hear them shouting, this time in english.

"Give up! Your not going to escape!"

"Don't make it any harder on yourself!"

"Surround him!"

His arm was starting to hurt more now, and he'd forgotten about that with the wake of the bullets. Leon wasn't sure who these men were, or why they were attacking, but he wasn't going to think about it for now, he told Suzan to run, and he was going to make sure she got away. With that in thought, he moved out of cover again and fired, taking out another before covering again, just as movement to his right alarmed him, and a body jumped out from the darkness. Without thinking, he pushed himself to the side, narrowly missing the large knife aimed for his head as the blade skimmed across metal. The dive knocked the wind out of him as he landed on his side, jarring his ribs, causing him to cry out at the sharp pain. Instinct warned him again and he listened to its command, rolling onto his back and raising his gun sideways with both hands, catching the blade mid strike.

The man was on top of the survivor, growling in anger as he forced the blade to the side, skimming off metal and cutting his victims hand, causing the survivor to loose the gun.

Leon winced and let go of the weapon on reflex at the sting on his hand, his attackers blade pushing down to rest above his throat as he held the sharp steel at bay, glaring into the others eyes through the semi dark, just making out the bearded face in the fire light. He didn't like what he saw there in the mans eyes. Planting his knee on the mans stomach, Leon risked freeing a hand and pushed at his attacker, trying to get the pressure off what was slowly crushing his already damaged ribs, and in doing so, he grasped something familiar that his hand then took a hold of.

With a grunt of pain, Leon unsheathed the blade he found attached to the mans belt, and drove it right through his attackers chest, blood splattering down onto him. Mistake number 1, don't give your prey access to your weapons. However the man was resistant, suddenly grasping his jacket with one hand, pulling him up with force and head butting him. Leon's head seemed to exploded with sharp pain, and as a last act of survival he pulled the knife up in the mans chest, causing the other to scream and roll off him.

Noise invaded his senses as Leon laid their, dazed, his body not moving on his commands, and Leon knew he was dead, couldn't do anything as another form stood above him with a sneer, looking down at him for a moment before the butt of a rifle came down across his already injured head, hitting with impact and rendering Leon unconscious.

**=tTRR=**

All his senses were quiet, numb, like he was cut off from his body, like that feeling of being in space. Only he'd never been in space.

It was a few moments when he started feeling weird, like the world was upside down, his head felt like a anchor, arms weighing down above his head, and when Leon opened his eyes ever so slowly, blinking life into focus, he stared with a frown. His hands being the first thing he noticed, covered in dried blood and dirt, and around his wrists was entwined thick coarse rope, binding his hands together, past that, was what he thought was the ceiling, only he noticed that his logic had to be miss calculated. He was staring at the floor, meaning he was very much dangling upside down, bound.

Leon groaned.

Some unknown substance was dripping near by, and he hoped it was water. He closed his eyes again at the uncomfortable feeling in his head, and Leon guessed he'd been upside down like this for a few short hours, maybe less. Gravity and time seemingly out of his grasp. Opening his eyes again, blinking back the darkness around his vision, he spotted dots of a dark substance gathering on the dirt covered floor, which he realized was coming from his head, the wound he took from the crash had been forced open again, coating his entire left side of his face in think crimson, and if it weren't for the fact that he was hanging upside down, he'd bet he would be dizzy with the blood loss.

The smell hit him next.

Like the very pits of the underground waste of Umbrellas left overs, Leon gagged, his heart picking up with the smell, and he panicked. Now very much conscious, he took in his surroundings with darting eyes. A rectangular room, coated in blood and dirt, and filled with corpses. Leon actually seriously thought he'd been taken into an Umbrella facility, where everything had obviously gone wrong. There were bodies on tables, knives still hacked into them, some were even still strung up in the same manner as he was, though they were wrapped like a spiders dinner, feet secured to thick wooden beams in the ceiling. Some were extremely old, others were a couple of weeks recent, but that didn't help with the smell of rotting and decaying flesh.

Leon swallowed past the lump in his throat, the light of many candles in a corner creating alarming shadows everywhere, though Leon paused. Looking to the source of the light, he saw what looked like some kind of shrine, a body was hanging, though the right way up, bones showing through rotted skin, suggesting it had been there for a long time. White paint decorated the walls behind the body, a figure of a person standing under.. was that a sun? Many red candles were placed across tables under the body and covering an entire wall. The red of blood glowing in the candle light.

Last Leon checked, Umbrella don't exactly make christmas trees. As Leon looked around the room again, he noticed a shape on the wall. A door, and if there was a door, then there was a way out.

With a determined breath, he eyed his wrists, before pulling his head up and tried a glimps at where his feet were bound to the beams, catching sight of the same rope tied around and around his ankles, and trailing up his calf's to ensure he didn't come loose. Letting gravity take his head again, Leon grumbled in frustration. This didn't look easy, but he sure as hell didn't want to stick around. Those men who attacked the crash site obviously weren't there to help them, and now they'd taken him to god knows where, strung up like a slump of meat, and Leon knew that where ever the plane crashed, it was on hostile soil.

Damn it. His heart was warning him again, and Leon cursed at his instincts, getting a feeling that when his captors showed up, it wouldn't be pretty.

"Sorry boys. I'm checking out." Leon muttered, pulling his head against gravity again to get another look at his situation. He needed to reach his feet somehow.

With a thought that he probably shouldn't be doing this, but attempting it anyway just to get satisfaction out of crossing the plan off his mentle list, Leon gritted his teeth together and tensed his mid section, holding his breath as he pulled himself up slowly. With a stifled groan he pulled his arms up, grasping his thighs with bound hands and holding on, releaving some of the tension in his stomach and chest as he edged his hands closer to his knees.

His chest was flaring with pain, and his hands slipped, loosing his grip and swinging back down with a barely stifled cry of pain, swaying for a few moments. Leon cursed when he had his breath back, relaxing his arms again as he hung there. Well, option A was out of the question, Leon knew he couldn't do that again, not with his ribs protesting, and he was still for a moment, listening for any indication for any possible threat.

When nothing but the dripping of that still unknown substance reached his ears, Leon relaxed, letting out a sigh, before looking around him again. Theres got to be something he can use.

His eyes raked over the floor that was covered in a mixture of blood and dirt, clothes and bones, and a few peices of wood and tins. Leon eye'd a particualy long piece of wood, like it had come from a spear, only lacking the blade that would be helpfull right about now. Though when he looked at the wood, then at the clothes, then at the fire, a promising idea came to mind. Option B. Biting his lip, Leon figured that with a few more inches he'd be able to reach out and grasp the end of the wood, with that in mind, he began swinging, mentally laughing and cursing at himself at how ridiculous this was. He felt like he was eight again.

The wooden beams above him creaked as dust sprinkled down, though the support was strong and held firm as his hand grazed his objective, causing him to mutter a curse. Just a little more... There! With a grime and bloodied smile of triumph, Leon took a firm hold of the wood, taking a mental note to pull an item of cloth towards him along with it. Now with both items in his bound hands, Leon wrapped the cloth around the end, tying it in a number of knots before eying the candles a mere two meters away.

Arms out stretched as far as he could get them, Leon held out the cloth covered end of the stick above the closest candle. "C'mon..." He muttered, seeing the material start to singe and hoping that the damn stuff will light. Maybe it was covered in blood or something? Or maybe as his luck would have it, the damn material was fire proof. Though when it smoked for a few seconds before catching in flames, Leon could have smirked, now pulling the flaming end up above him, resting it on the side of where the rope had his booted feet bound to the ceiling.

More smoke puffed, and Leon hoped that the fire would be alight enough to do the job. "C'mon you son of a-" Leon cursed and squinted in concentration, his assault of words at the object was cut short when a snap sounded, the rope burning away to a point where it couldn't hold his weight, and Leon swore as he hit the ground with a thump.

He groaned after a moment, somewhat in a daze as he glared up at where his feet had been tied to. The feeling of being light weight now that he was partly the right way up confused him, and Leon looked himself over, suddenly noticing that his leather jacket had been stripped from him, along with his holster and gun. "-_Bitch_." He finished his previous sentence, but this time directed at who ever took his damn jacket.

With a growl of anger, Leon began pulling and untangling the rope around his ankles, throwing the horrid stuff away and turning his glare to the one around his wrists. This one was a little more difficult, and no matter how much he twisted his hands, he couldn't reach the rope. Leon signed, glancing at the candles. "Time for option B again." He muttered under his breath, ears pealed for any sounds as he got up, stepping carefully over the room and to one of the lit candles, pausing for a moment before holding his wrists over the flame, small wisps of smoke dancing as the fire licked at the rope.

Leon hissed as the flame burnt his skin at the last knot, forcing his hands to remain there as threads burnt away and pulling his wrists apart when the knot finally relented its hold. Now free, Leon forced his eyes away from the shine he was standing next to and turned to the door, his ticket out of here. Walking over to with quiet calculated steps so that he wouldn't kick a skull or slip on something he didn't particularly want to slip on. Pressing his ear against the cool metal of the door, Leon stilled his breathing as he listened, trained ears not picking up any sound that would warn him of a hostile's presence.

With one hand on the handle, the other pressed flat against the rough door, Leon narrowed his eyes and held his regained breath, testing his confinement.

A click sounded faintly as the handle was pushed all the way down, releasing its tooth in the wall and opening inward an inch on command. "Amateurs." Leon muttered quietly. Maybe these men didn't expect him to fight, felt over confident, safe and secure in their little home, Leon didn't know, but for what ever reason being, he was glad that they gave him another step of freedom, unknowingly as it is. How ever small it may be.

Opening the door all the way, Leon began the footsteps that of a survivor, a fighter, and he didn't go down so easily.


	3. Chapter 2

_**Hello my freaky darlings. Well, here is chapter 2, I enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you enjoy reading it. For those of you who know me on DA and have seen the pictures that go with this story, I hope it fits with the theme. Curious, how many of you have played both Resident Evil and Tomb Raider? :D**_

**The Tomb Raiders Resident**

_Evil Endures_

**Chapter 2:**

Boeing Flight 727.

Destination: Europe.

Passengers: 200. Staff passengers: 21. Pilots: 4.

Survivor Count: Unknown.

Current location: Unknown.

Current date and time: Unknown.

Mission Details:

Target: Felucha Marriest. Terrorist.

Assigned Agent: Leon Kennedy.

Operation: Dark Friday.

- 2 weeks and four days: in.

Leon ran through the dark woods, breathing with the flight of his escape, the hands of trees snagging at his shirt, tearing the material and at skin. It seemed even the woods were against him from leaving, and Leon gasped when he stumbled on a log he didn't see, the nature of this place giving his pursuers a few extra feet of closing distance, catching up slowly but surely, booted feet sounding on the forest ground. Regaining his dignity, Leon took off again, picking up his pace with difficulty as he continued his run for survival. He didn't know this place, and his enemies did.

Because one thing he now knew, was that these people were out for his blood, and as far as Leon was concerned, they were now on opposite sides of the field.

He wasn't sure what time it was, for it was still dark, but he guessed it couldn't be too far off from the time of the crash, maybe a few hours, which means it will be dawn soon. Though as he ran, Leon knew that a sunrise probably wouldn't be seen anyway, not with storm clouds covering the moons rays, leaving him little light to navigate with through the rough terrain.

He couldn't see not but a few meters in front of him, and ducked immediately at the last second when a low hanging branch came into view, bringing a hand up to brush the leaves aside, his breath sounding in his ears. Though when a snap sounded under his boot, he knew that his shitty day just got a whole lot worse.

Leon fell with a startled shout, landing roughly on the leaf covered ground as his hands failed at putting a stop to the impact. The source of his trip was causing sharp bolts of pain to shoot up his leg, and Leon turned on his side, catching sight of a faint silver glint locked around his left ankle. A bear trap. Well, he hoped it was set for bears, and Leon didn't know whether or not to take that as a comfort or a warning. Rolling onto his back and sitting up, Leon took both hands and tried forcing the device open with pained rasps, though his fingers slipped and came away sticky, and of course this particular trap had teeth which were berried in his calf.

Twigs snapping in the distance sounded and Leon's head snapped up, catching the small dots of his pursuers red torches moving through the woods like fire flies, and he cursed, looking around quickly. He didn't have a choice, spotting the large trunk of a tree a few meters away, Leon knew that he couldn't pry open the device that was currently locked around his leg, not in time. Another snap of a twig, this time a little closer spurred Leon into moving, and he dragged himself along the forest floor, glade that the trap hadn't been nailed down in any form as he made his way closer to the large tree, stifling his grunts behind clenched teeth.

Leon moved behind it, pulling his leg and the hunk of metal with him, the tree's width being large enough to hide him completely and out of sight. The sound of men running in his direction grew closer, and Leon hoped that in their hast they'd miss the trail of blood he no doubt left on the floor.

Foot falls reached the location, shouting and cursing, the warm glow of the torches lit up the woods but leaving more shadows in its wake.

Leon stilled and forced his breathing to quiet shallow breaths, back pressed up against the tree he was taking shelter behind, hearing his pursuers run past the area, obviously thinking that he'd gone further up, others tracking a little slower behind the runners, and Leon cursed at that. They weren't as dumb as he was hoping they'd be. The glow of the fire was still there, and Leon stayed as still as possible, knowing they were mere meters away from his location, swallowing as he gripped his leg at the pain flaring, he could see the fire light flicker off the blood that coated the metal on his ankle. Damn it.

Gruff voices spoke in Russian, and Leon was glad that he took up the lessons on the language, even if it came with the job.

"He can't have gone far, not with that concussion, I hit him pretty hard."

"Father Mathias won't be happy when he hears of this, not when that girl is running around as well."

"No, he won't be. This guy can fight no doubt, pulled an ID off him. He's Government."

"Shit, really? What, like James Bond?"

"Shut the fuck up, if we don't get this guy, then we'll all be thrown in the pits. I'm not going to make the same mistake that Nicholi did."

"Hey... look there, what's that?"

"Looks like blood, and its recent."

Three voices argued amongst each other, and Leon tensed at the mention of blood, his questions on this 'Father Mathias' and 'that girl' fleeing his mind as footsteps sounded closer to the tree he was hiding behind, and Leon held his breath. He was injured, unarmed, and there were three men closing in on his position. The fire light was lighting up more of his hiding place inch by inch, the steps coming closer still and Leon heard metal sheening, a shadow descending closer.

Leon glared up when the torch shone down on him, the glow of the fire now illuming him for his pursuers to see.

"No one escapes." The man that knocked Leon out at the crash site stood over him, a machete drawn, its metal sheening in the torches light. "Stand up." The man barked in English, though the Russian accent was heavily evident as the other two flanked the survivor.

When Leon didn't move immediately, the one holding the machete reached down with violent aggression, pulling him up by his shirt and causing him to stumble, his balance wavering as he adjusted his feet, taking weight off his injured leg. The man holding him shoved him into the tree before throwing back a fist suddenly, and Leon doubled forward as it made contact with accuracy into his chest, a breathless grunt sounding at the pain, a moment later he fell forward when the man released him, collapsing onto the forest floor again and prone as Leon struggled with breathing.

"Look here, did you step in a bear trap?" One of them barked laughter, giving a kick to the survivors injured ankle, delighting in the moan that came from him. "Might as well call in the group. This one's not going anywhere any time soon." The man said, kneeling down and took out some rope to proceed and bind Leon's hands behind his back.

Through the pain, Leon felt the movement, and looked to his side from his position as he layed on his stomach, spotting a boot next to his face, with a very familiar and promising item strapped to the leather. He figured that the first man he killed after the crash would teach these guys a lesson, but it seemed that to his luck, they didn't learn as fast as he would think.

"I wonder what Father Mathias would want to do with this one?"

"I don't know, maybe try to recruit him."

That didn't sit to well with Leon, and just as the man over him reached for his arm, he acted. With lightning speed, he reached out at took the dagger from the mans boot, the steel coming to life with a sheen, and not even hesitating, be buried the blade into the mans foot, who in turn yelled at the pain whilst stumbling back. Leon withdrew the knife, rolling as the second moved in and he kicked out with his good leg, tripping the man, seeing an opportunity Leon didn't waste it, raising the knife again and sliced it into the second mans throat, gurgling as blood spilled forth.

A yell sounded to his right and Leon rolled on his instinct's warning, missing the machete that cut into the ground next to his head as dirt flew up. As he rolled, he threw the knife with dead accuracy at the man who was recovering from the knife wound to the foot. Leon knew he was getting rid of his only weapon, but as the man fell dead, the knife buried in his throat like the second, Leon knew that it was one on one now.

They were messing with the wrong person.

Pulling himself to his knees as he eyed the first attacker, Leon knew that he couldn't fight sitting down like this, and so did the other as the man stood there confidently, advancing slowly despite two of the others being dead already. With a yell, the man attacked.

Leon forced himself to move, and jumped up to the right as the blade swiped at air, his jump had him stumbling into the tree from before as he couldn't gain his balance fast enough for the sudden movement, his calf screaming at him with the weight on the injured muscle. Leon looked up just in time to move again to the side, the weapon in the Russians hand coming to get stuck into the thick bark of the tree where he'd been just a second ago, and Leon acted fast. Grabbing the man's hand, Leon threw a right hook into the others jaw, causing his attacker to stumble with the force behind the blow and released the handle of the machete.

Seeing a few very short seconds to spare, Leon took hold on the swaying handle with both hands, pulling with all his might as the Russian regained balance, before charging at him with an almost inhuman growl.

At the last possible moment the blade came free of its kiss with the bark, and Leon twirled the weapon skilfully in his hands, grasping the fist aimed at his head with one hand and driving the machete through the stomach, home to his attacker with the other hand.

They both feel to the forest floor, though Leon maintained his grip on both the weapon and the man, who was choking and coughing up blood. The sight of the man dying didn't worry Leon as he sat on his side with his injured leg straight, but he wanted a few answers first.

"Why did you attack the crash site?" He demanded, staring intently into the others face, but the man continued to cough up blood, not making an effort to speak. "What do you want? Where am I?" Leon asked again, pulling the man up by his jacket, knowing that if he wanted answers he'd need to be quick."Where am I?" Yet again he got no answer, and Leon growled in annoyance after a moment. The man was stuttering, shaking with deaths grip, mouth opening and closing a number of times, blood trailing past pale blue lips.

"No...one.."

Leon frowned, pulling at the man's jacket to redirect attention. "What?" He stared intently at the man, the head ache in his temples making him easily angry and impatient, for good reason.

"No one... leaves... this island..."

"Island?" Leon questioned, only just making out the choked words of the dying man.

"...alive."

A last cough, and the man stilled, eyes becoming distant. Leon cursed, through all of this he didn't get much, but then maybe there wasn't much about this situation at all. An island... Leon wasn't sure on what to say about being stranded in hostile territory, and the constant uttering of those same three words keep eating at him. No one leaves. He heard those exact words in his head just before impact on the plane, and again those words were written on the wall in his cell from where he woke up after being taken captive, and now they are a dying man's last.

Leon felt uneasy.

With a frustrated sigh, he got up painfully and limped over to one of the dead bodies, dragging his ankle behind him as he carefully sat down, pulling the dagger free of the man's neck, coated in crimson. He took a moment to analyse these men, hoping that some form of information will be on them that might tell him in a little more detail as to where he was. They were dressed in torn and tattered clothing, some even wearing army issued clothing. They were armed with all sorts of gear, though non of it was of any use to him at the moment, boned necklaces decorated their necks, spiked gloves and packs made of animal skin, one of them had a bow strapped along side a quiver with hand made arrows. Leon frowned, this looked like a civilization that relied entirely on their own resources, cut off from the world. An Island.. full of these hostile men. Leon was starting to like this situation less and less, as if he liked it in the first place.

"Tell me something." Leon muttered at particularly nothing as he checked the man's pockets, pulling out random old coins that looked ancient and well passed their time, proceeding to another pouch and opening it, though he withdrew immediately when what appeared to be severed fingers were stuffed inside, causing him to curse. Just what kind of people are they? With a glare, he proceeded hesitantly with the man's torn jacket, hoping he won't find something else like that. Nothing in that one, so he checked the next one, pausing when his fingers grassed what felt like paper. With a partly curious and weary look, Leon pulled it out. folded, dirty and torn around the edges, he opened the note and began to read.

_"For better or worse, I now follow Father Mathias. If I'm going to be stuck on this island, at least I have the best possible job. He calls me his first Solarii. Mathias might be insane, but he's smart and dangerous. He knows things about this island. I believe he's our only chance of ever getting out of here._

_Mathias keeps us happy. We control the guns and the food. Anything the storms bring to this island is ours and we decide the fate of any new survivors. Any who defy us are killed. We're masters of this fucked up island."_

"The Solarii..." He re-read, not familiar with the term or name. When he joined the Government, they had him familiarise languages, cultures, other countries and law, ancient habitats and history. While there was allot he learnt, allot he read about, there was also a great deal he didn't know, a great deal of information that had layers and layers trailing back many years and no longer modern time. Leon was usually very good when picking apart words and their meaning, but this one held no meaning to him at all. He'd never heard of the term 'Solarii.'

Father Mathias. Leon heard one of the men say that before, it might even had been this particular man. By the sounds of it, he's cut off, trapped on an island run by an insane 'leader' who's too much on the intelligent side, and intelligence mixed with insane does indeed make one extremely dangerous, means they are capable of many horrible things. 'Anything the storms bring to this island is ours...' Leon's heart clenched at that, something really wrong about those words. Then what does that mean? Also, the scene after the crash came to mind, the way those men attacked the survivors, killed some of them, dragged others away. 'We decide the fate of any new survivors. Any who defy us are killed.'

Leon felt like he had fallen into hell again. Crash landed, literally.

With an uneasy swallow past his suddenly dry throat, Leon glanced down at the dead man. "Who are you?" He wondered out loud, the question was underlined with many more, but asking a corpse wouldn't get him anywhere. Pocketing the crumbled paper for now, eyeing the bloodied dagger in his hand. It was a well cared for knife, though old it was, it was a strange cut, etched with symbols and markings covering both the hilt and the blade, looking more like an ancient artefact than a weapon, and Leon stared in realisation. It was an old Japanese dagger from the world war.

Though his dead man was Russian.

Leon shook his head, frowning at the blade, though forcing down the thoughts and questions he knows he won't get answers to. With another look at this dead 'Solarri', Leon eased his injured leg into a better position, eyeing the cruel device locked around hit ankle, before bringing the knife over and picking at the bolts with the tip, wincing a little as his movements caused the teeth to bite in a fraction. It took a little longer than what he liked, hoping that the others ahead won't trail back in realization that their tale is a few guys light. Another wince and the pressure around his ankle eased, now setting the blade down, mentally praising at how strong it still was, Leon placed both hands on the traps jaws before prying it open with force. A moment later, his leg was out and he released the trap as it clamped shut again with a snap.

Leon eyed the device then his leg, cringing in dismay at the blood that saturated his jeans, the dark denim torn and ripped, showing nasty cuts and puncture wounds beneath. It looked like a shark nearly had his foot for dinner, and in a way that sounded more book worthy than what stepping on a hunk of rigged metal did.

Knowing that sitting and staring at his foot wouldn't do him any good, Leon stood up carefully, easing his weight onto his leg and bit his lip. Walking was going to be a pain, but he wasn't going to camp out here, no, Leon needed to cover as much distance between him and these men as possible, find a reasonably safe place to take residence and find out just where the hell his was at sunrise.

Tucking the dagger between his belt, Leon limped over to the torch still lit on the floor, bending down carefully and picking it up, looking at the direction he came from to the opposite at where his pursuers ran off to, Leon knew they'd be back very soon, and he didn't want to wait around any longer. If he couldn't go forward or back, then he could go left or right. The moon was to his right, and thinking for a moment, Leon turned to his left, towards the sunrise that will no doubt glow in a number of hours. A final look at the area, Leon left the scene.

**=tTRR=**

"No my lucky day..."

Leon stood amongst the woods as he drew the knife he'd taken from this pursuers a number of yards back, the torch he held lighting up a few meters in front of him in every direction, piercing but not breaking the darkness of the dense shrubs and plants that covered the forest floor. A moaning howl sounding close by and causing Leon to tense.

Wolves.

He should of guessed that the dead bodies of the three men would attract attention, but he'd been careful and left the scene, making good time between him and them. Though it looked like he'd run into trouble no matter which way he went. Leon had faced off such creatures before, infected creatures, but the experience was one he never liked facing and he'd avoid it if he could. Another howl sounded, this one too close for comfort, and a growl rumbled in the darkness. The wolves had found him, caught his scent, the blood that covered him, and Leon knew that he can't outrun these animals, looks like he's fighting.

Twigs snapping to his left and Leon turned around with lightning speed, waving the torch around to the location of his hunter, blade held in a tight grip and steady as the silence followed. Leon knew the wolf was still there, he could feel the eyes on him in hunger. More rustling followed a second later and he adjusted position, turning to the source, using the flames and hoping it would scare the wolf off, though as another growl sounded, accompanied by more twigs snapping, Leon tensed even more.

There was more than one.

He cursed mentally, of course they hunt in packs, and he was in their territory. Now he really should have known better. Eyes glinted in the fire light amongst the darkness of the bush, and Leon moved into a fighting stance as those eyes locked onto his. This one was going to make the first move.

With a growl, the wolf lunged, its large black form springing from the darkness with startling speed, and Leon ducked, skilfully bringing up the small blade as the hunter sailed over him by inches and cutting into the wolf's under belly. The dark creature stumbled with a yelp on landing as Leon turned to face another area where more eyes glinted. Leon knew that the first one would hold back a for but a moment, and he focused his attention on the next one.

This one ran at him from the side before changing course suddenly and coming from his front, large paws swiping at its prey. Leon felt those claws slice into his thigh as he dodged only enough to avoid the teeth riddled jaw that wanted to clamp around his leg, he stepped to the side whilst bringing the torch around with speed and catching the creature across the face, fire flaring on impact. The wolf barked and stumbled back, paws swiping at the burns heating its fur.

Leon caught another warning as a third wolf jumped from the darkness, and he turned just as the heavy body crashed into his, not having any time to avoid the attack, he lost his grip on the torch and fell to the floor, the weight of his attacker on top of him.

With a grunt he pushed at the wolf's chest, arms straining as the hunter's snapping jaws coming to breeze by his nose, and Leon knew he needed to act fast. The blade had been dropped on the impact, its weight teasing Leon as it rested on his chest, but he couldn't risk freeing a hand from its grip in the wolf's thick fur, not unless he wanted his face to be dinner. Growling and snarling sounded as the animal on top of him fought, its paws pinning his shoulders and upper body to the floor, saliva dripping onto his neck and chin causing Leon to cringe. "So.. not in the mood.. for a kiss.. right now." Leon grumbled breathlessly behind clenched teeth as his arms strained at keeping the animal at bay.

Another howl sounded close by, and Leon knew he _really_ needed to to something. With a thought on that he's gone mad, Leon got his legs to move and wrapped them tightly around the wolf's back, and when the wolf made another lunge for his throat, he let his hands go of their vice grip and moved his head to the side, just missing the jaws that bit down on air with a clap of teeth. Wrapping one of his arms around the back of the wolf's neck, he seemingly hugged the creature so that it couldn't go back for another attempt at biting his head off, his other free hand reaching between them at the blade that rested on his chest. With a yell, Leon got his fingers around the hilt and brought the weapon free before driving it into the side of the animals head, below the ear.

His thought on this was that he should have taken the machete, the wolf continued to fight and Leon pressed the blade in further as the animal fought with the pain, its last attempts still of decapitation of its prays head. Leon tightened his hold and twisted the knife, causing the creature to give a final yelp before its fight died down along with it, stilling. Leon sighed, laying there for probably a split second too long, then pushed at the weight of the animal with a tired groan, its body rolling off him.

The sound of snapping twigs and more grows reminded Leon that he still had two, if not more wolves to deal with, and he sat up quickly as one appeared not but two meters in front of him, growling and glaring with yellow eyes. Leon's hand itched carefully to the blade buried in the dead wolf next to him, but at a growl he froze, eyeing the one currently eyeing him. The torch was a few meters away, lighting up the area in a orange glow that flickered the shadows, another wolf stalked up next to the second, snarling.

Leon moved, ever so slightly, but the wolf barked a warning, and he stayed as still as possible, eyes never once straying from the creature in front of him, because he knew that if his eyes so much as blinked, he was dead. The wolf's yellow eyes flickered to the dead one, before back to him, and Leon knew that it was another battle now, though of a different kind. Alpha on Alpha.

The woods were quiet with the tension, and eery huddle settling over the crickets and owls. Leon was sitting in a forest, covered in blood, dirt, wolf drool and god knows what else, having a stand off with a Alpha wolf, something he never thought of doing in his life time, but then he's done stranger things. It was life or death now, any stray mistake would cost him dearly.

A twig snapped behind him. Followed by a guttural growl.

Leon knew he was dead this time, swallowing at the movement behind him, his eyes still locked onto the first wolf as the animal growled dangerously again, taking a step forward. Another growl and a snap behind him as he felt the presence of another wolf getting alarmingly closer, a mere meter away, its breath brushing at the back of his neck. Leon closed his eyes.

When nothing but more growling happened, Leon pried his eyes open again hesitantly, seeing the the first wolf in front of him had actually taken a step back, eyeing the one behind him. Another guttural growl sounded from the new comer, barking and snarling at the other two wolves, and Leon watched in confused amazement after another tense moment as the two wolves in front of him took more steps back, before disappearing into the darkness of the woods, running paws becoming more distant before fading.

Leon released the breath he'd been unknowingly holding, shaken as silence greeted him. blinking a few times, and when nothing changed he relaxed ever faintly before his tension renewed at the presence he could still feel behind him. What? Did this one want him for dinner all by themselves? Leon froze again as hot breath breathed at the back of his neck, sniffs sounded before a rough tongue scraped across skin, followed by a whine.

Leon frowned.

Swallowing thickly, Leon turned around ever so slowly, inch by inch and making sure he didn't do anything too sudden that would warrant the animal to attack, and what he saw caused him to gasp. A large light grey wolf sat behind him, yellow eyes staring into his with too much knowledge to be possible, the thick grey fur changing to white at the tips in various areas, and Leon stared hesitantly at the hunter in thought. "I know you..." He dared to whisper.

The wolf's ears perked, and the animal sat up suddenly, taking a few steps closer to him, and Leon couldn't help but flinch at the movement, edging backwards a little but stopped when the wolf barked at him, and Leon forced himself not to move as the hunter came closer, sniffing. He was face to face with a wolf, a natural hunter to the prey, though it seemed they were on even grounds. Leon looked into the yellow eyes, intelligence shone through the golden depths, and with hesitation, Leon held out his hand to the hunter carefully, palm up, flinching back ever so slightly when the wolf licked his hand, though not making any motion to bite down. A peace jester.

Memories surfaced, he was in a dead empty forest, it was cloudy and cold, the grey area showing little to no colour, and amongst the stillness and grey was a white form on the ground, a wolf whining, blood stained its white fur, the animals foot had been caught in a bear trap. He helped the animal, released it and it limped away. Further out his mission he would see a white blur, hear the howls as the wolf showed him in the right direction, distracting his enemies, helping him.

Leon blinked, now looking back into those golden eyes. "Hey you, how'r you holdin' up?" He asked it quietly, smiling despite himself, and the animal in answer yapped in a very un-wolf like way, sitting down again though closer this time. Leon chuckled in amazement, signing with relief. "You scared the hell out of me." He scolded the animal, its innocent eyes staring back at him, before the wolf lent down, sniffing his outstretched leg, coming to linger over his bloodied ankle before looking back up at him with a quiet whine. "Yeah, stepped in a bear trap. I'll be fine, just need to patch it up." Leon said to the animal, seeing its eyes linger over him. So much intelligence... Leon knew that this wasn't normal, but he suddenly frowned. He was talking to a wolf. _That_ wasn't normal.

Leon signed. "I've lost it." He muttered. Rubbing tiredly at his head, hearing another whine come from the animal that was the source of his insanity. Opening his eyes again, he moved over to the dead wolf, grasping at the handle of the dagger and pulling the bloodied blade free, carefully standing up as he eyed the darkness, at ease when danger was no where to be seen or felt. Walking over to the still lit torch, Leon bent down and grasped the wood, glad that it was still alight, and he looked over at the wolf he met in Spain. "Do you know where we are?" Leon asked the animal.

The wolf just sat there, looking at him silently, making no notion if it understood what he was saying.

Leon shook his head, should have known better than to ask a wolf where he was, and he didn't know why he bothered talking to it in the first place. Well, first things first, Leon needed to again get away from this area in case the dead animal gathered more problems, he needed to find shelter until sunrise. With a hesitant glance at his savour, Leon started walking to where he was heading before he was attacked, not knowing where that was, but he figured that backtracking would only take him back to his enemies, so going in the opposite direction seemed promising.

He had walked a number of meters in the forest when rustling caught his attention, and looking to his left, he spotted the wolf trailing next to him at a distance. Leon didn't know what to think about that. "I guess your my companion now." He muttered, seeing the animal disappear, but Leon knew the wolf was still there, if not but at a distance, following him, just like the creature did in Spain.

Thinking for another moment, Leon resumed his trek through the land, this island, going into the unknown.

_**End of Chapter 2.** _**_Sorry for any spelling errors. Stay tuned for chapter 3, and Review your thoughts :D_**


	4. Chapter 3

_**Hello my freaky darlings. Well, if you were wondering... here is chapter 3! I've come to a blockade with 'Project White Wolf', but hopefully I'll get another chapter under way soon enough, just been busy with life. Not sure if I got a few words in here right... but.. eh. Anyway's, enjoy! **_

**The Tomb Raiders Resident**

_Evil Endures_

**Chapter 3.**

Boeing Flight 727.

Destination: Europe.

Passengers: 200. Staff passengers: 21. Pilots: 4.

Survivor Count: Unknown.

Current location: Unknown.

Current date and time: Unknown.

Mission Details:

Target: Felucha Marriest. Terrorist.

Assigned Agent: Leon Kennedy.

Operation: Dark Friday.

- 2 weeks and four days: in.

The halls were a dark wood, deep browns and reds with golden highlights, large circular pillars held the high ceiling up and were neatly lined in precise measurements to the rooms entry doors. Torches flamed on the walls and cast the area in a warm glow, basking the wood in rich colours, highlighting the many white drawings that were painted on the wood. Large bowls in the middle of the room and to the sides were alight with flame, the sparks and cackles of the wood burning breaking the eery silence for a number of tense moments.

"How many?"

The owner of the voice was standing at the end of the room, back to the few others who were there. The hooded man, garbed in torn cloth and arms smeared in the same white paint that marked the walls, stood under a large shrine of the Sun Queen, her image a intimidating beauty towering over the figures, her body alight with hundreds of small candles that danced in romance, her dominions.

"We've gathered 65 survivors from the crash, 23 have been executed, the others are being moved to the Catacombs. However, we believe there may yet be at least another 20 or more survivors who have fled the crash site." One of the men standing behind the hooded figure spoke up, garbed in a torn coat and army issued pants, various necklaces of symbols and stars hung around the Solarii's neck, spiked gloved hands a rest at his sides. Belts were clipped over the man's shoulders and around the waist, pockets and pouches of animal skin carrying ammunition clips. Knives were at his hips, and a rifle was slung over one broad shoulder. Messy shoulder length hair framed a clean shaven face, but eyes were as piercing as a hawk.

"This is a big group. I'd imagine all teams are on the look out."

"I've sent word to every post." The Solarii replied, and unlike the others in the room, his accent wasn't that of a Russian, but American. Taking a step forward, the Solarii addressed the hooded figure. "Father Mathias, I have some information that might be of interest to you."

Mathias finally turned around to address the small group, taking his cruel intelligent eyes off the shine to land on the solders. Insanity shone briefly in the depths of his pupils, but the man was as calm and collected as ever, standing there without question or answer to what the other man spoke of. He didn't need to.

"One of the survivors managed to escape one of the prisoner camps dungeon. He's no fool, the survivor has been trained to fight, killed a few men at the crash site, and further more three men after his escape with not but a small knife." The Solarii spoke evenly, maintaining eye contact with the hooded man. "I pulled these from Dimitri's post, of which he got from this survivor." The Solarii solder pulled out what was a leather wallet, opening the torn object and showing the badge of Government inside, along with the agents details. Reaching behind him, the Solarii also pulled a gun that was tucked securely in his jeans, a unique Beretta and handing out both items to the other.

Mathias took the items silently, eyes taking in the dirt covered wallet, reading the words marked on the badge. _Division of Security Operations_, he read in his mind, before eyes trailed to the photo, silently picturing the image to memory and every detail. The gun was different, a simple 9mm, curvy and sleek, a well cared for weapon that had no doubt seen many years worth of horrors or battles. Not the issue that a Government would offer, Mathias knew that, this one was purchased by its owner, and holding the weapon, the man knew that its owner was skilled. Mathias stared at the fine weapon, though seeing its flaws, a scar marked down the side of the metal, one he knew came from a blade, and recent by how clean it was. Probably from the crash.

The men were at a little unease by Father Mathias' silence, but the Solarii solder was calm, steady, fearless. "I have my own team tracking the American down now, by the looks of things, his injured, so it will only be a matter of time before we find him. As for the outsider, she was sighted at the mountain base just recently, killed a few men, but she's left a trail. We'll be waiting for her next, she'll walk right into us." The Solarii reported, and accepted the gun that was handed back to him, placing the weapon back in its nesting place.

"Ulri's team will take care of her." Mathias said, still holding the wallet and eyeing its contents. "I'm assigning you my first Solarii in wake of Dimitri's death. You focus on the American, track him down, and when you find him.. bring him to me." Turning his back to the solders, Mathias pocketed the wallet, turning his dark gaze back to the Shrine in thought. "I want to speak with this.. Leon S Kennedy." He rolled the name slowly over his tongue. "Then you can do with him what you will. You decide the fate of any survivor, I trust that you'll do well."

"Yes, Father." The Solarii nodded respectfully, before turning and leaving the throne room, the other men trailing behind him, addressing the others as they walked. "I want all eyes and ears at attention, the survivor we are tracking is no light weight, he is a trained agent, secret service by the looks of it. Keep your guard on, I want no mistakes this time." The Solarii demanded, seeing his men nod and speak their answers of acknowledging his words.

The weight of the Beretta tucked in the waist of his jeans gave him ground, level, the Solarii wasn't going to fail Father Mathias like the others did. He was their best tracker, and he gets the job done.

**=tTRR=**

It was morning, and like Leon guessed, a cloudy morning. The sun's warm rays had woken him up as it escaped the grey clouds blankets for a few minutes, but was soon engulfed and leaving the plant life again to find their resources through other means. The fire he had lit died to not but ash just a few stray hours ago before dawn, but in contrast to the cold nights, the day temperature was warming up, and Leon intended to do some.. sight seeing, as it is, because if he is trapped on this island with hostile men prowling all around, then he needed a way out. Though first, he needed to contact his department.

Leon stood up carefully, wincing at the ache in his ankle, having not been able to tend to it with no resources as well as his other injuries, and he made a note to do exactly that when he goes sight-seeing. The weightlessness he felt unnerved him, and Leon hated it. His long sleeved blue shirt was missing the first two buttons, tears at the sleeves from his flight through the forest at where branches tugged on him, and covered in burns, blood and dirt so much that it was now a dark shade of washed out blue with dark blood stains. His jeans were a little more lucky, the only tear was at his ankle where he stepped home into that trap, and another from the wolves, though other than the blood and dirt that too darkened the material, it was still in tact. The feeling of being sun burnt reminded him that the side of his face was still covered in dried blood from his head wound, the substance clotting around his left eye then trailing down to his chin, irritating him with its somewhat restraining presence.

Leon signed, he felt and looked like utter crap.

His hand brushed the hilt of the Japanese knife tucked in his belt, and even though he felt like he'd been stripped, it was a familiar feeling, he'd run through hostile grounds before with nothing but a knife, but that didn't mean Leon wanted to do such a thing again. It really wasn't his lucky day, and he frowned, because he can't remember a time or place in which he was even close to being lucky.

He dug his hand into his pocket, and pulled out the sim he took from his phone, its presence relieving him for a moment. His captors may have taken his badge, gun and his _damn_ jacket, but they missed his only means at calling for back up, and as far as Leon was concerned, they made a very good mistake.

Now that it was dawn, the light provided gave him a sense of direction, and Leon took in his surroundings for the first time in more detail since the crash. He'd taken shelter in the mouth on the side of a cliff, the weeds and vines on the side's had grown over the ledge though not hiding anything from view. All he could see were kilometres of forests and mountains shrouded in the morning fog and glow, and the sight would have been beautiful if it weren't for the fact that everyone out there were hunting people like him. Survivors. Again, Leon wondered just what soil he was standing on, and why there was so much... horror to its feeling.

Looking back to his camp, something he hadn't noticed in his hast, was that it had already been set up prior his arrival. There were rocks in a ring around the remains of the fire, wood was lying around at random though its presence was clearly organised, it hadn't been brought in by the wind, it was carried in by a person. Also the small detail in which that when Leon took shelter here, all he had to do was light the camp fire with his torch, the wood already placed in the ring and ready to burn.

If Leon really looked close enough, he could see imprints of shoe marks in the dense dirt, not his own, and that came with the feeling that he wasn't the only one to have escaped the madness of these Solarii solders who were out for blood. Blue eyes trailed from the foot prints to the path that lay beyond him, and Leon had a feeling of which he couldn't describe, a feeling that urged him to take the steps down that path, and with a final look around him he moved forward.

The chatter of animals sounded as he walked, and Leon felt comfort in that as he continued with his 'sight seeing' quest, the plant life and calmness seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders as he walked, limping a little though the pain was one he could do with. A lingering head ache still annoyed him, as well as breathing, but Leon brushed it aside, he was alive and he needed to focus on staying that way. After a number of many meters, he paused.

Running water sounded near by.

The sound forced Leon to realise just how thirsty he was, and he resumed his trek down the path to the source of his attention, down a slight slop and around a low cliff was part of a canyon. A small water fall fell in its rhythm down the cliff side, landing and causing rivets of what would be a small river that ran down through the clearing, further through the canyon and out of sight among the forest. Leon didn't take in much else as he stood there, his need for water driving him to move and he continued with closing the distance, walking over to the side of the river and kneeling down carefully.

The fresh running water glistened at him lightly and Leon brought both hands to form a bowl, dipping his hands below the surface of the cold water and leaning down to drink. It was clean, fresh and delightful as he thirsted, the liquid soothing his throat and adding moisture to his parched lips, filling his insides with its cool travels. It was a short moment later and he signed, hands stilling as his need for thirst died down to a comforting level, and he found himself staring at his reflection in the river.

A very dirty and bloodied version of himself stared back at him, and Leon frowned, bringing up a hand to lightly rub at the side of his face, seeing the clear streak it made on skin as the water soaked up the dirt there. With a thought, he gathered more water in his hands and slashed the substance on his face, the droplets running down in patterns causing most of the dirt to leave its grip on his skin, though the blood seemed to relent its hold, and Leon brought his hands up again, rubbing at the dry crimson, causing flakes to break away. He flinched at the pain in his temple, and gently rubbed at the source of where the blood had come from, the wound he took in the crash flaring and causing his head ache to bloom a little.

With most of the dirt and blood washed from his face, Leon felt a little better, and looking at his reflection again, even though he still looked like crap, at least the hell aspect had been washed away.

A noise sounded.

Leon's eyes snapped up at the cluttered sound, hand coming to brush the hilt of the Japanese knife, and now doing what he should have done before making a dash to the water, he observed his surroundings. On the other side of the shallow river was an old worn down building. Far to small to be anything other than a shed of some kind, the metal front door was open, a small glow of light shining through the small window amongst the darkness.

Leon didn't take his eyes away from the window as he slowly stood up, hand still positioned on the knife as he continued to stand for a second, eyes catching every detail. From the make of the shed which consisted of stone, brick and wood. The metal door which had a number of dents and scratches dotting everywhere, the handle missing. To the glow he could see in the broken window, the movement of flame on the inner walls causing Leon to tense.

He didn't want to see what was in there, something spoke of horror and the sorts, but as a human being, that instinct to look, to investigate the disturbance, the curiosity, won over what his mind told him and what his heart told him, his instinct won over both of those aspects, it needed to know. That, and the training that's been drilled into his bones as a fighter against monsters of all sorts, as a agent. Leon stepped through the shallow river, his feet disturbing the waters rhythm as it fought its way around the offending limbs to clash again. Each step was slow and cautious, soundless and steady on grass and dirt, the water coating the soles of his boots causing dirt the clump and gather into mud.

Leon pulled the blade free of his belt even though the warning and danger he felt wasn't imminent. Adrenalin again heightened his sensors as he stood just outside the open door and moving in slowly, eyes narrowed and knife at the ready as his movements placed him in a position to slowly uncover more and more of the small room, inch by inch. He took the final step and moved in with speed, knife raised and holding his breath, pausing to a still at his find.

Nothing.

The small dying flame of a torch lit on the wall drew his attention first, its light casting the small room in its glow and leaving little shadows to banter with, Leon's eyes raked over the room, which was made up of next to nothing. An item-less bench was on the wall, the wood chipped and dusty, the torch was placed above it, but despite all this, Leon knew there was more here than what meets the visible human eye. Lowering the blade he held, he took a step forward to the torch, and in doing so, his boot made contact with an item on the floor.

Leon paused again, looking down to the object, and lent down to pick it up. A old rusted wrench. Such an item confused him, but Leon eyed his surroundings again in suspicion, because a wrench doesn't just randomly show up from god knows where, and fall of a table on its own accord. No, someone, or dare he question, something, had disturbed the item there for causing him to investigate the noise.

Though there was little here to look at, and Leon tucked the item in his belt, not knowing why but it was always handy to have a few extra tools around when your stranded on hostile grounds. With a sigh, he moved to turn around and head back out, though something else that looked odd caught his attention. With another curious frown, he stepped passed the torch, eyeing a particularly dark and shadowed shape on the ground, its existence not looking right to him. When his shoes brushed the few stray pebbles near the darkness, those small rocks disappeared into the abyss, and a few seconds later he heard the faint sound of those rocks hitting a hard surface.

Grabbing the torch, Leon knelt down and brought the light over the area, breaking through the darkness and revealing the pipe handles of a ladder. He was standing over the entrance to some kind of basement.

"Great..." He mumbled to himself, already knowing what he'll do. With an irritable sigh, he carefully moved over the gap and eased down on the ladder, torch in hand and taking the first steps down into the darkness, the pipes he had a tight hold of were groaning slightly, and Leon hoped they'd be strong enough. He couldn't see much from his position, and what he hoped was half way down he was starting to regret it, thinking that maybe it was best if he turned back.

Despite that thought, he continued down, frowning in concentration and trying to see past him in the tight passage, wondering where the ground is, and Leon gasped when his boot slipped, causing him to think fast and gripping the pipes with his hands, his weight temporarily on his injured ankle causing him to wince. _Get a hold of yourself_.. He mentally cursed, his booted feet fumbling for a moment before gaining balance again, and he signed, pausing for another second before continuing.

He reached the bottom without any more troubles, and when the torch lit up the ground, he promptly smiled and carefully stepped down from the ladder. Looking up for a moment before his eyes travelled around in which he just willingly stepped into. Nothing more than a two by two meter square space covered in rusted metal, dirt and mud. Though as Leon shone the torch around, it glinted of a surface that wasn't metal, but water. He took the few steps forward and lent down a little, bringing the torch forward and looked at what appeared to be a flooded tunnel riddled with broken wooden planks and metal.

The water looked filthy, and that's putting it mildly, the torch unable to break through the surface and leaving it dark. As to the reason to the flooding, it was unknown. Muffled silence greeted Leon's ears, no droplets indicating a leak from somewhere above, nothing. Despite the uneasy feeling, Leon took another step forward closer to the tunnel, the tip of his boots brushing the waters surface and causing a ripple to sheer the surface.

"Hunnigan so put me up to this..." He muttered darkly, mentally cursing again as he stepped into the water, or in other words what he would describe as a sewer, because it certainly looked like one, and the smell wasn't too far off either.

After a few more forced moves on his part and another curse at why the hell he was willingly doing this, Leon found himself waist deep in utter freezing, murky and absolutely filthy water, the icy chill of it causing goose bumps to raise on his skin and a fierce ache that throbbed in his injured ankle. He pushed himself through the water and just a few inches shy of hitting his head on the low ceiling of the tunnel, a though that he really shouldn't be doing this again accused him. God know's what kind of substances and other various things in the water that would probably be bad for the torn wound in his calf, his risk of it getting infected was probably shooting through the roof at this stage. No, this was a bad idea.

The wet walls of the tunnel were marked in familiar white paint, and he paused for a moment, staring at lines crossed off, and he counted 44. Leon stared, was that days? Moving forward, he again paused on another one, though this one was a drawing. There was a tower amongst the mountains, alight at the top, and Leon's hand twitched to his pocket. A radio tower, and his means at contacting someone, though he needed to get to it first. Keeping the torch lit above the water, Leon ducked under one metal beam that was stuck horizontally in his path, hissing as the cold water rose a few inches as he did so. He pushed forward, narrowing his eyes at light that wasn't coming from his torch, up ahead there was what looked like a room above the surface of the water. Getting closer he moved slower, trying to quiet the waters protests at his movements, and he stepped careful when his boots came in contact with steps, walking up them until he was standing out of the water, level with the room.

He knew immediately he'd made a mistake in coming here.

A sense of deja-vu hit him as he found himself eyeing the walls, covered in paintings of white hand prints, a sun and a figure, lines that either suggested days or people were crossed off like some kind of calendar format. Chunks of some unknown source of meat were strung up on large hooks that looked like the fishing type, many tables and benches decorated the room riddled with bones and empty bottles, candles were lit under another shrine that glinted on the blood that saturated the walls, part of the room was divided by bars, like half of the room was a cage. All and all, it looked like he walked into a butcher shop where they cut up the meat.

Only a very filthy, and horrifying butcher shop. He didn't think it was legal to have such places like this on the street.

Leon took a careful step in, making sure his boots didn't kick any of the human and animal skulls that littered the floor, not seeing any form of information that would identify a person being here right that moment, the only thing lacking in the environment were the vials of viruses he would expect to see in a place like this. Taking a few more hesitant steps, Leon eyed the area, swallowing down the bile that wanted to rise at seeing hacked meat covered in flies and maggots, blood was smeared everywhere, and the unnerving part of it was that some of it couldn't be more than a few hours old.

He shifted on his feet, suddenly feeling like he should turn back, but something across the room caught his eyes, that something rested on one of the tables covered in dirt and blood finger prints. Leon froze for a second, eyes fixed on the object before he took in a anxious gasp, walking over quickly to the desk and moved a shaking hand to brush the camera that rested there.

He'd seen this one before, despite it being covered in so much dirt, he could recognise it immediately, the fluorescent stick figure drawings showing through the grime and blood. "Suzan..." He breathed in surprise, eyes fixed on the object before looking around, hoping to see the woman, but his hopes were quickly crushed when he couldn't see anything identifying that she'd been here. Leon hoped that she hadn't been here. The last he saw of the younger woman was at the crash site when he told her to run.

Picking up the object hesitantly, he brushed his hand over the surface of the screen to remove the dirt, pressing the button and was surprised in his mute when the glow of the screen turned to life, the camera's most recent photo coming to show. Leon frowned in concern and fear, the image was dark, almost to the point where it was just blackness.

But he saw her.

A brief warning of his instinct flared and Leon turned quickly at the feeling of danger, a strong hand driven by what ever desperation clamped over his mouth and nose, and Leon dropped the camera and reached for his knife, not even hearing the device drop on the cold floor with the hum of panic in his ears as the man restricting his air brought steel up to his throat, and Leon's hand paused. The fierce sting was dangerously close to his jugular and the person holding him was neither gentle or careful. A fowl and hot breath at his ear sent shivers up his spine.

"D-drop -the knife!"

The man's stutter was crazed and shaken, and Leon's hand didn't stray from his weapon, keeping still and forcing himself to calm as his restricted need for oxygen began to eat at him. The hand that held the large blade to his throat shook, and when Leon didn't do anything, the rusted steel dug in deeper, slicing a jagged cut though skin and causing crimson to run down his throat, staining the collar of his shirt. Leon clamped his eyes shut at that, he wasn't sure if the man knew just how close the knife was, or if the movement was intended.

"D-do it!"

Leon opened his eyes again more calmly, his vision turning slightly blurry around the edges as he released his hold on the Japanese blade, the clatter of steel sounding its hit with the ground, but to Leon's dismay, the man did not ease up on the blade at his throat, and he kept as still as he dared, feeling the heat of more blood run forth.

He was dragged backwards, and the clumsy movements of the other caused Leon to tense, hoping that a stray trip won't result in his throat being slit. The others panicked and crazed breathing set him at a level of unease, and he was starting to feel light headed from no oxygen, though he dared not to struggle, because bargaining with a mad man who held you at knife point would only end one way. The filthy hand around his mouth and nose was suddenly gone, and Leon took in a grateful gasp that caused his ribs to ache and his throat to move against the knife there. A few clanks of metal sounded behind him and a moment later the knife was removed, but before he could do anything, he was thrown harshly around and onto the floor, landing with a grunt.

Looking up from his position on the floor, Leon realised he'd just been locked into the divided part of the room with the meat strung up and bones for company, and he turned his glare to the man he can now see on the other side of the bars, fumbling with the chains around to secure the 'cell' door. The jerked movements and insane eyes unnerved Leon, he really shouldn't have come here. He eyed the man, frowning at the differences he didn't really expect. The man was dressed in near shredded clothes which were stained in what Leon guessed was lots of blood, but he didn't see any injuries that would be the cause.. unless it wasn't the man's blood. There were no weapons apart from the knife, and Leon knew the man wasn't a solder of any kind, but another survivor by the looks of it, one that had been here for an extended amount of time to warrant the loss of sanity.

Though any of that didn't mean the man wasn't dangerous.

"Your not a Solarii." Leon stated out loud, not really knowing the term Solarii himself, but maybe this man might.

"N-no! Not them! I-" The man was pacing erratically, avoiding eye contact. "I- I Jack. No S-Solarii!" The man pointed at himself fiercely, and started to mumble incoherent words, waving the knife about.

Leon picked himself up slowly from the floor, all the while keeping his distance and eyes fixed on the other man. "Where'd you get that camera?" He demanded, hoping against anything that the man just found it, hoping that Suzan wasn't captured or worse.

"Camera... f-found, no... woman. Yes, s-she had a- camera... She.." The man trailed off again, more unrecognisable mumbles sounding.

Leon took a step forward, anger crossing his features. "Where is she? Where's Suzan!?" Leon banged his fist against the bars in agitation, trying to get the man to talk sense, to answer his damn question, the anger he felt was tipped with a fear for the woman's safety, she was innocent, non of this was meant to happen.

"Shh! Shh! M-must be -quiet.. shh... D-demons will -hear..." The man moved over to a desk, hands fumbling over various objects.

"What did you do to her!?" Leon yelled again, despite the others rambling about 'Demons'.

"Shh! Quiet! S-she s-safe..." The man continued in hushed tones, erratic movements pausing, and Leon couldn't see over the man's back or what the other was doing. "She s-safe...now..." The man finished, though his voice took on a dark crazed edge to it, and the man turned around.

Leon didn't like what he saw in the man's eyes, or hear in the man's voice, and saying that, he didn't think he liked what the man was holding either. Dirty hands were fiddling with some kind of wooden straw, hollow enough to fit a finger in, and Leon backed away from the bars as the man came closer.

"N-now... you be s-safe too. Y-you join -her..." With that, the psychopath raised the tube to his cracked lips, and blew at the end with force.

Leon's question on that was suddenly cut short when a small object flew from the end and right towards him, the object in bending itself just above his collar bone with surprising force, and Leon jerked at the uncomfortable sting, bringing up a hand to pull the offending object free. He felt the effects right before he realized he'd been hit with a dart, its path travelling through him like wild fire, and he dropped the object with numb fingers, breathing was becoming more difficult, like what ever toxin that tainted the dart was freezing his muscles, and Leon glared up at the crazed man.

Too soon did Leon's body hit the ground, and the last thing he heard before numbness over took his mind and vision were crazed mumbles and the sound of the cell door being opened.

_**End of Chapter 3.**_

_**Don't forget to review darlings! :)**_


	5. Chapter 4

**Hello my freaky Bio-Weapon darlings! Chapter 4 is up! Again, sorry for spelling, I do filter through 'em a number of times, I just tend to over look things. I have completed the next chapter already, and will post that the following weekend or when I get back from the country. Leon will meet the Endurance crew in Chapter 6, so for now, enjoy! **

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**The Tomb Raiders Resident**

_Evil Endures_

**Chapter 4.**

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Boeing Flight 727.

Destination: Europe.

Passengers: 200. Staff passengers: 21. Pilots: 4.

Survivor Count: Unknown.

Current location: Unknown.

Current date and time: Unknown.

Mission Details:

Target: Felucha Marriest. Terrorist.

Assigned Agent: Leon Kennedy.

Operation: Dark Friday.

- 2 weeks and four days: in.

Leon opened his eyes tiredly to a chill that creeped across his skin, but the heat of the fire in the room kept him warm, now with blue eyes blinking into focus and lazy at ridding the effects the drug still had on him, he remembered the events that transpired before he blacked out.

Pressure at the joints in his arms and wrists told him that he was again bound to the ceiling, only the right way up. His knees were slightly bent and Leon could feel the dirt and rubble under his bare feet that were brushing the ground. That alone caused him to mentally frown and an unidentified feeling spread through him, churning in his stomach and causing him to fight a struggle. Looking himself over, Leon again found himself weightless, both his long sleeved shirt and t-shirt had been stripped from him, along with his boots, socks and jeans, leaving him in his underwear and bare to the enviroment.

What? Taking his jacket wasn't enough?

In the light, his chest was blotched in black and blue bruises that gathered at his left side and inwards, wrapping around his chest in scattered patterns, strange highlights of an off coloured yellow showed the extent of the damage from the crash, and a doctor would report just by the sight alone that a number of ribs were cracked, if not broken.

Crazed mumbles and the clatter of metal drew his attention, and Leon looked to his left with a glare, spotting the man responsible for the current mess he was in, again, and Leon didn't like the fact that the man was in the same room as he, no more than a few stray meters away. Blood stained hands feathering over various blades and knives that lay arrest on a equally bloodied table, the rusted and sharp blades glinting silver gold in the fire light, the sorts of them looked like they came from a butcher shop, and Leon tensed.

With another gurgle in his stomach at the sight, Leon began twisting his hands in the rope which was knotted around one of the fish like hooks hanging from the ceiling, the strain in his arms aching but he did not relent his efforts. Though to his dismay, his struggles only alerted the psychopath of his awareness.

"D-do you know -how much b-lood is in t-the human b-body?" The man stuttered, back to him as the psychopath's hands idly observed each blade, holding them up to a near by fire and eyeing with insane curiosity, before moving to the next one, answering the question for him. "Six p-pints."

Leon didn't like the sound of that, and that sound was the unnerving realisation that the man was right. He could deal with the infected, fight off zombies, because they had aspects taken away from them by the virus, the thought process, their education and memory's. This man had obviously resorted to catabolism through what ever horrors that had wakened on this island, and the feeling was like that of an outbreak, only there was no virus to excuse the behaviour. The infected ones that still had the ability to think, to plan, to put a name to an object and its use, to reason with a situation or discussion, they were the most dangerous. Though some who understood what they were doing, had control over their minds, justified their actions; human beings, basically, and that knowledge was frightening.

The many torches in the room lit the area up in a warm, and sickly orange glow, shimmering a deep red off the blood that was painted on the walls, the splatter a measurement of past victims to this man's prison, because there was no virus here, these were the actions of a human being, and that frightened Leon more than what the un-dead did.

"It w-wont be long bef-ore the blood is d-drained... T-then the meat will be ready t-to cut. B-ut don't worry, y-you'll be s-safe... you'll b-be safe..." The man took a hold of a large jagged blade before turning around to face him, crazed eyes alight with insanity and hunger.

Leon struggled with more urgency as the man stepped closer, the blade gleaming in the light and causing him to panic with the man's intentions, sweat started to break out with the quickening if his heart beat. "Why are you doing this?" He demanded, trying to stall the man to give him more time to think. The first words he'd spoken since waking up, and he mentally signed when the man paused in front of him, thoughtful.

"T-to help you. To Free you. Y-you under -stand, d-don't you?"

Leon scoffed. "If you want to free me, then un-bind me, and give me my clothes back." He said as a matter of fact, giving his arms a pull to clarify his words, adding the last part angrily. Eye's narrowing at the look on the man's face, a look of curiosity, mixed with something akin to viewing a broken possession, and Leon jerked when the man raised a ghost like hand to press against the worst of the bruising gathered on his chest, causing him to wince at the contact against his injured ribs.

"Hmm..hm." The man mumbled some, a few unrecognisable words passing unheeded before those stutters formed. "Damaged... b-bones, no matter, n-no matter... S-strong, healthy.. g-good, good." The man moved to take another step closer, the blade coming to a rise.

Leon didn't even think twice.

With a sudden move that be-lied his state and condition, Leon pulled his body up with his arms, muscles straining and shoulder joints locking as he brought his legs up with force and kicked the psychopath in the chest, sending the man back a number of paces to crash into the bars of the 'cell' with a shout of surprise. Now with a second to spare, Leon looked up at his bound wrists to analyse an escape plan, and with a restrained smirk that just barely ghosted across his grim face, he looked back to the crazed man as the other stood up.

"Y-you! You c-can't do t-that!" The man's words became more stuttered the angrier he got, standing up after a few stumbles and gripping the blade with a vice lock of bloodied fingers.

"Bullshit I can't!" Leon countered back, glaring at the other with calculated observation, hands fisting in their bonds as the man took a agitated step closer. Leon wanted to see how much he can anger the other into making mistakes, and it seemed that how furious the man was now, it wouldn't take much else. If anything at all. For a second later, the man yelled in anger with a frighteningly fast move, covering the distance and before Leon knew it, the man was again in front of him, and Leon forced his body to turn to the side in attempt to avoid the blade that strikes.

He knew he hadn't acted fast enough, but being bound the way he is didn't help much either. The blade didn't stab into his side by the path that it was originally taking, whether knowingly or unknowingly the man intended it to go with the crazed move, and the rough sharp steel came to slice a deep jagged gash into Leon's side across to his naval, the path of the blade burning as blood splattered, awakened from its confinement behind skin. Leon jerked at the pain with a cry, seeing his attackers arm go back for another slice at his flesh.

He wasn't about to be cooked and served up on a tray with a glass of red wine, no pun intended. When his attacker pulled the blade back for another swing, Leon kicked up a leg, knocking the bloodied weapon from the others grasp, the clatter of steel sounding across the room when its hazard flight came to an end. The man fumbled for a second, crazed eyes angry with intent on beating the life out of him, and Leon again pulled himself up, swinging both legs up as the man came closer at a rush. However, instead of pushing the man away like he did the first time, Leon locked both legs on the mans shoulders and around the man's neck, before adding as much pressure as he could, choking the man with his knees.

He may regret doing this later, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and he didn't like the idea of being someone's meal, not back in Raccoon or Hardivile Airport, not back in Spain or Russia, and not back in Tall Oaks or China. The psychopaths fingers dug into his thighs as the man choked, causing Leon to wince at the sting, he knew that eventually the crazed man will break free, the choking hold he had on the other was strong but wouldn't last to the last breath.

Leon could feel a throbbing ache in his shoulder again, the pull on his arms as they supported his weight wasn't doing any good, and adding to that, the psychopath was starting to struggle violently, fingernails clawing and leaving red welts on his skin, and Leon gasped when the man took a hold of his legs and pulled down, agony shooting up his arms and wrists.

His shoulder joints protested at the intense strain, and Leon acted on the force of it, locking his knees around the man's neck tighter, bracing himself before twisting violently to the side so suddenly that a distinct sound of a bone snapping resounded in the room, the psychopaths neck now bent at an odd angle, fight ceasing.

Before the body had a chance to fall, Leon used the purchase to pull his bound wrists free and over the hook, grabbing hold of the metal with bound hands before he could fall over with the slack body of the now dead mad man. Easing his legs down, Leon let go and his feet made solid steady contact with the floor, wincing at the sting of the welts on his thighs and the burn in his side. _That could have gone better_... He mentally cursed.

"Can't say this has happened before..." Leon muttered without much amusement, standing in a butcher 'shop' over the dead body of his 'chef' half naked and after snapping the said chef's neck with his knees, all the while being strung up and bound to a unnaturally large fish hook in the ceiling. As far as he was concerned, no, this did not happen, Hunnigan was not going to know about this.

He stood their for a second longer, sighing as his heart beat slowed down from the high of being someone's dinner, something he didn't expect to happen from another human being. The warm glow of the fire was comfortable against his skin despite the situation as he walked carefully around the dead man and over to the bloodied blade that had been an attempt to cut him up, kneeling down to grasp the handle and skilfully flipping it over his palm, the blade turned inwards and he started to cut the rope around his wrists.

With that annoyingly familiar task done, he stood up and took another moment to glance down at the psychopaths corpse, questions that needed answering filtered through his mind, anger and worry, also the odd expectation he felt that the man should get up again, because the fact that the man wanted him for dinner awoke that feeling of fighting against bio-terrorism.

The burning in his side reminded him that the chef had nearly skewered him, and he looked down with disdain at the blood that was slowly running down his stomach, the gash was a number of inches long and probably needed stitches. Though Leon knew that he'd have a hard time in finding a needle and thread around here. He guessed he'd have to deal with it later.

With a last glare towards the unmoving body, he traded his looks around the room, the feeling of being bare irritating him, though that feeling turned to a weird relief as he spied his clothes folded _neatly_ on a near by dirty table. He made his way over being mindful not to step on anything sharp, and reached out for the items, his hand pausing when he again caught sight of the camera sitting next to them. Leon picked it up and turned it on again, the same photo coming up on the screen and sending shivers to travel across skin.

Amongst the eery blackness was the pale frightened face of Suzan, here eyes alight with fear in the darkness, and it was clear to Leon that who ever took this photo, clearly not Suzan, possible the chef, was an enemy, whether it was another crazed survivor or a Solarii, he didn't know. Leon swallowed, hitting a button to view the next picture, and his eyes softened. The photo that was taken back on the plane before everything went down. Reality has it, every second of life is measured, counted, time is always in motion, and motion can change from one point to another at any moment desired by fate. As fate had changed him forever in Raccoon City.

It seemed fate was out for more blood, more lives to toy with. Leon turned the camera off with fierce determination. He was not going to let fate win again.

Placing the camera aside, he reached for his clothes, thinking a moment before taking one of his shirts and tearing one of the sleeves off, pressing it against the wound to his stomach with a wince. His other shirt should hold it in place as he didn't have any bandages. Putting on his socks and still somewhat damp jeans from his trek through the flooded tunnel, hooking the belt through the loops and closing the buckle with a clank of metal then proceeding with his shirts. He winced painfully as he pulled the t-shirt over his head, bringing up a hand to rub idly at his sore shoulder, not knowing exactly why it was aching so much before pulling his 'one' long sleeve shirt over him, buttoning up the material and making him feel more decent.

The tight t-shirt he was wearing did its job in holding the cloth to the wound, but he could feel with annoyance as the blood slowly dotted the fabric, soaking the weaved threads in warm crimson. With a sigh, Leon took the camera and hooked the string attached to his belt after lacing up his shoes, seeing also that he still had the random wrench he'd picked up earlier, pocketing that and tucking the Japanese blade in his belt as well, he took a torch from a near by wall before heading to the opposite tunnel to which he entered from.

He could have sworn, the exit was no different from the entrance of the basement, the water no less dirtier or freezing, and again the difficult climb up the makeshift ladder was troublesome, hands coming close to slipping more than once on the metal. The shift of microscopic dirt particles between skin and steel bushing down as it was disturbed from its rest. Though this time Leon didn't nearly fall, this time his limbs were prepared for the route of exiting the butcher shop, his reflexes and mind focused on the expected and unexpected.

The sun was shining behind grey clouds, its white light position in the moody sky telling him that it had just reached mid day, and that he'd been underground for about 4 hours. Wild life had long before awakened, the sound of a birds song whistling merrily, the soft flutters of fluffy paws as rabbits hopped around and among the plant life gathered on the forest floor. Leon had seen little of this kind of world, where the only sound that reached your ears was the thrill of nature, and not the screech of car tires, people yelling, the sorts of city life. Though the feeling that breezed in the air still lingered, that hum of unnatural power, of fear, ready to strike a hush over the land, and Leon found that he couldn't relax like he would do in this environment.

Beautiful cloaking of the Islands nightmares.

The path that he soon found himself following lead him seemingly deeper into the woods, up a hill of dirt and stone then around a corner, and a shadow was cast over the clearing. Looking up, Leon stared in question-less curiosity and a unnerving wonder at a shredded parachute that was caught in the surrounding trees clutches, the branches unrelenting and imprisoning who ever had taken a rough landing here. The scene looked old, and seemed to have been built into some kind of shelter, the torn thick fabric of the parachute acting as a roof over another unlit camp fire.

Few useless equipments lay about, the odd sorts of logs and wooden boxes, tables and broken items laying about the dirt. Leon walked into the camp carefully, booted feet taking measured steps on the soil, observant eyes looking down and seeing other signs that someone else had been here. Nothing he didn't know before, and a camp fire doesn't get build at random, he only hoped that it was the survivors who built it and not the rebels or Solarii that he read about.

The camp was indeed a good one, and Leon found himself reluctant to leave it, though knew that sitting around will either get him killed, or he'd make very little to no progress on getting off this island, and the environment such as this one, so much different, and yet the feeling was the same as trying to get out of an infected city. He wasn't all in for the idea of staying here.

Surprisingly, the air was warm and he found himself suddenly realising just how cold the flooded tunnel had been, the numbness that cloaked his wounds de-frosting away slowly in wake of an ache. Leon really didn't know why he went in that place to start with, and he found himself mentally blaming Hunnigan again.

A birds flutter of wings caused him to blink, and Leon tore his eyes away from the prints on the floor, looking at the feathered creature as it perched itself on a near by table, head tilting to the sides and looking at him with beady eyes, seemingly questioning his existence. Leon looked back at the winged animal, short of smiling slightly at the intelligent innocence before it took off. A rest on the table behind where the bird had been, lay a book, and Leon paused, frowning at the randomness of the item, before filling the space between and brushing a dirty hand over the scared leather, before opening, blue eyes skimming the neat writing on dirty paper.

_'It's clear that there are people living here, and they're organised. They're killing and recruiting, but why? It's like some kind of cult. But a cult of what? What do they want? What are they looking for?'_

Those were the first words he read at random on the page, some of it he'd guessed already, the island was indeed inhabited by a group of people, though the term 'cult' had him frowning. Last time a place was run by an insane 'cult', was back in Spain when he rescued the presidents daughter, and that particular mission hadn't gone down well. In fact, it was a disaster, the only good thing that turned out was that he completed his mission, and Ashley had gotten home safe.

Everything else was a cluster, though this time, if it was indeed the same sort of craziness ruling this island, Leon knew he was prepared for it.

He decided that he'd take the book, tucking it in the waist line of his jeans. It was clear to him that another survivor had written the documents, and Leon knew that in this sort of environment, he'd need a few extra tips and 'study' to take in account of what to look out for, where to go, what to do, and hopefully find who ever wrote this book, if they were still alive.

It was then that Leon decided to move on, and he could only just make out some large mountains through the trees to the east which were a towering dark mass that boarded the land, and if he looked close enough, stilling his eyes fixed on the one spot, he could see a dark grey shift in the equally grey sky. Smoke, and a large amount of it.

The crash site.

At least now Leon knew where he was going.

Though there was no way he was climbing up that high, or going over the mountain, he also definitely crossed off the 'going under' the mountain option, if there was even a way, because Leon didn't particularly like caves or any underground structure or passage, buildings, of the sorts. The Umbrella facility in Raccoon City was a good kick off for his nerve about being underground, then there was the time in Spain, then in Tall Oaks Cathedral, and just past tense. No, he wasn't going underground again damn it.

Leon signed.

Through the dense woods and trees sway, he could see the mountains seemingly spread and distance themselves further north, becoming more scattered and divided, no doubt leaving passage ways to travel east without going around the entire island, a gap in the lands teeth.

Looks like he's going north, and cutting through to east.

Pity he didn't have a map, or could draw one at the moment, but then he's been without the directing ink and paper before, only he had Hunnigan to back him up with directions, that woman and her tech skills, satellite images, or dare he suggest, Google maps... Leon winced at that last part, for if she found that out, she'd probably hit him, and Leon had a good idea that despite the glasses and suits, she'd pack a rather nasty punch. Her style and personality somewhat gave him the impression that she was a soccer player back in high school, again, she will never know that thought.

His mind angled to a more serious matter on the thoughts of HQ, and that was his mission. Leon knew that with all the events that had transpired within 24 hours, he'd need a report for Hunnigan on the status of Felucha Marriest, the fact that he last saw the man on the plane before it crashed wasn't enough Intel on his part to confirm anything, for all Leon knew, the man could too be alive, stranded on this very island, with a very real and possible catastrophe in bio-weaponry form just _waiting_ to be unleashed.

The crash site will be Leon's first hit for information, for there has got to be something or nothing that will give him the status he needs for his target.

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**:D Until next time. Elf out.**


End file.
